Helljumper: Feet first into Lylat
by Lesser Ninja
Summary: During a trans-dimensional experiment, Cornerian scientists inadvertly pull the UNSC Aegis Fate warship out of it's slipspace trajectory following the Battle of the Ark. On board is GySgt Jack Reynolds, an Orbital Drop Shock Trooper fresh from the Human/Covenant war. What does the future have in store for a proven veteran of a grim dimension?
1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note: I want to thank you all for taking the time to read my story, and I hope you enjoy it. I like to include a lot of easter eggs and references to other media, so you might recognize a few things if you've got a sharp eye. I may or may not change the rating, and as always please review or PM me if there's anything you'd like to mention.**

* * *

The Fairchild Research Station was one of the most well-funded projects across the Cornerian science board. It was a large ring structure surrounding a central spire, which generated it's own artificial gravity due to centrifugal force rather than the expensive G-Diffuser systems. At any given time there were dozens upon dozens of academic pursuits going on with grant credits from the planet's universities, which drew in hopeful interns and seasoned experts alike in common drive.

Despite the optimistic drive of the animals on board, Dr. Callie Briggs was quickly approaching the point where she'd consider dunking her muzzle in coffee and never coming out again.

She was a nut brown calico cat, though shorter than most of her species tended to be, the hem of her lab coat brushing the bulkhead flooring in the slightly-too-big length it was. Her blonde hair was fastened into a ponytail and secured with a pen she had forgotten about, a spare idly being chewed on as she reviewed the test results from the previous cycle on her terminal. A stylish pair of glasses rested on the bridge of her maw.

She let out an exhausted sigh and laced her fingers behind her head.

_Project Spyglass_ was meant to be a new foray into trans-dimensional theory, testing the application of multiple universes on a practical level. Already there was FTL(faster than light) travel made possible by hyperdrive systems in short bursts, and the Beltino Gate System provided much farther transit than previously attained through point-to-point transmission. While more abstract, the ability to interact with other dimensions was theorized to be the next revolutionary step in space travel.

Callie personally thought it would never amount to anything more than scribbles and bargain-bin textbooks.

Regardless of her personal misgivings, the feline woman finished typing out a new observation report ready for the upcoming test, identical to the fifty seven others that came before it.

"Team 5," She spoke into the intercom without looking up, "You are cleared to begin."

"Understood," came the reply from a helmeted scientist turning in the staging area below to give her the 'ok' gesture, "Spinning up the reactor, final safety checks are go."

Callie's observatory was a window overlooking the hangar bay where the equipment was set up. Several generators and a massive power conduit were slaved to the station's power supply, with fail-safes in place to prevent accidental overload. The machines were designed to emit high-intensity radiation at specific frequencies and wavelengths, and all of them were calibrated to collide at a point several thousand meters away from the station for safety purposes. Sensors would then record the results of the collision points, of which the data could later be scrutinized for possible effects on a dimensional level. Most of the theory was associated with study of black holes, and the intent was to test the effects without the massive gravitational forces that usually accompany the phenomenon. While seemingly benign in nature, what most of the public didn't know about the project was it had been a continuation of one studied many years before by one of the greatest scientific minds Corneria had ever produced.

A scuffle among the personnel below attracted Callie's attention, and thumbed the intercom once more once they were all behind the blast shielding to the rear of the hanger.

"Commencing Test #58. Beginning depressurization."

The chamber hissed as oxygen was vented, and with a mechanical whine the great hatch slid open, exposing the vast inky soup of the Lylat System. The devices spun up and charged, preparing to direct their energies at the focal point so very distant, as the animals of that section of the station looked on.

"Depressurization complete. Charge is at 100%. Stand by, stand by…"

As Callie recited the same old tired line, her brilliant green eyes flicked to the chart displaying the variables of the radiation test. Something was niggling at the back of her mind, but she couldn't put a paw on what. It was almost as if the confusing mess of numbers spelled out something she could _almost_ read, but…

The calico cat shook her head, blinking sleep from her tired eyes. It had to be nothing.

"Ignition."

The plexiglass windows compensated for the suddenly blinding light, as the radiation beamed out of the devices assembled below. While several of them were invisible to the naked eye, the visible spectrum waves clashed brilliantly as they were directed out into space.

Callie looked away from the port and began examining the readouts filtering in; Gamma, Infrared, plenty of mind-numbing variables that would cause argument over a .02% fluctuation in some circles. She resumed chewing on her abused pen as the digits scrolled across the terminal screen.

Then her eye twitched as she noticed a sharp climb in the Tachyon levels of the affected area.

The calico cat isolated the reading and pinged the supervisor on the intercom. Her fingers flew as she felt a mounting excitement at the unexpected turn. The test had never before yielded a result like this! Her tail wagged reflexively as she poured over the climbing numbers, trying to find the link. The particles themselves were faster than light, the only evidence being entry and exit vectors-

Her thought process halted as a warning flashed across her screen in red. Cherenkov radiation was spiking at unsafe levels in the test area. Passing through a dielectric medium, the particles would polarize in transit and revert back to real-time emitting unique radiation. It was an incredibly rare occurrence, and something that should not have been happening.

Callie slapped the general alarm for the subsection and pinged the supervisor three more times. The technicians below quickly filed out of the blast chamber and retreated to a safer distance from the hanger. The door behind her slid open as Beltino Toad, the head researcher of the Fairchild Station and temporary supervisor rushed in followed by two aides. The squat amphibian huffed as he caught his breath, adjusting his spectacles quickly.

"Whatever's the matter?!"

"Dr. Toad, thank goodness."

Callie busied herself explaining the abnormal results in rapid-fire as she tried to override the system and shut down output.

"A few minutes ago the test site had begun to accumulate an unusual amount of Tachyon particles, when we observed a spike of Cherenkov radiation that has continued to grow since. I'm trying to shut down the system but the charge is being drawn out of the core manually, if it keeps up I'll be forced to vent the conduit."

The toad nodded as he gestured to one of his aides to arrange evacuation of the section. "Prepare to cut the conduit, we'll rely on emergency power until-"

The chime of proximity alarms stirred Callie from the supervisor's instruction.

Several three-dimensional visuals appeared over the front display, highlighting an expanding anomaly in the center of the radiation bombardment. What could only be described as a _rip_ in space was torn hundreds of kilometers wide, and hung there in an abstract sort of beauty. If it was not for the terrifying concept of _cannot-be _currently threatening the lives of the whole station, they might have appreciated the colors.

"Shut it down! Shut it down _now_!" Beltino's eyes were wide with fear, sweating lightly as the calico cat slapped furiously at the emergency shutoff controls.

Elsewhere on the station, a pipeline of cabling connected to the main reactor detached manually from the station, and the tremendous power surging through it fizzled and died as it was disconnected from the test devices.

Everything went dark, and red lights blinked to life in the absence of normal power. There was silence now, and the screens which had before been electronically assisted in polarization now slowly thawed out to their normal transparency as the animals in the observation deck calmed down from the near disaster.

"Well," Beltino Toad fished a kerchief out of his jacket and mopped his brow to hide the tremor in his voice, "That was a close call people!"

Like a weigh had been lifted off all of them, the animals breathed out in relief, and Callie seemed to melt in her own fur, slumping in her chair. "What a day."

One of the aides, a young stoat intern began to paw lightly at Dr. Briggs's lab coat.

"Um…"

"Not now," she barked, rubbing her eyes as she tried to calm down, "Please don't be bothering me right now. I'm fed up with this whole show."

"B-but, um…doctor…"

Callie turned irritably to look at the boy, who had an expression of abject shock etched on his face, pointing out past the window. The group looked up at the newly de-polarized glass, and all movement froze dead at what they observed magnified from several thousand kilometers away.

Out in the black, a single angular shape floated alone.

There should have been nothing there. There wasn't anything near the test site for a whole quadrant, not even debris. Yet, out in the dissipating radiation fields of the Project Spyglass experiment, an unfamiliar shape, an _artificial_ shape was hung there by itself. The size of the object was massive; even from their distance, and the implications far more terrifying than any reactor breach.

_Alien._

"Miss Briggs," Beltino's usual jolly tone was devoid of emotion as his nerveless hands dropped the data pad he'd been holding, "Contact General Pepper immediately." The calico cat nodded, her fur rising on end as she dialed up a transmission to Cornerian High Command.

It was time to send in the army.

* * *

Several hours later, a detachment of the Cornerian Army had taken up positions around the station. After the catastrophic events of the Aparoid invasion, no security measures could be ignored when dealing with unknown extra-terrestrials.

General Pepper and the hastily assembled Cornerian brass were gathered in the Fairchild central briefing room, pouring over reports and diagrams regarding the alien vessel. A temporary cordon had been enacted by fighter pilots, and all traffic in the quadrant had been suspended temporarily.

The gathered people watched the display screen as visual feeds of the ship were projected.

It was impossibly huge. A large angular construction, rear-heavy with developed thrusters, and an elongated spine that led to the front of the ship. Dull grey/brown of damaged metal covered the vessel, and no immediate markings could be spotted. Unlike the sharp, clean lines of the Cornerian navy, this ship was almost ugly in the utilitarian design that seemed more along the lines of crude Venomian craft. Much unlike the late-Andross's forces, this spaceship appeared to be solid armor plating, layered thickly over its central body, with what seemed to be point defence auto cannons and missiles.

General Pepper would have relaxed at the notion that the alternate dimension inhabitants might be of a lower technology pool than Lylat, although the sheer scale of the vessel outclassed anything in his Navy. Originally the Cornerian fleet was a mere police force, supplemented by repurposed freighters during the Lylat War, although following Andross's defeat shipyard production had stepped up to provide greater firepower to the Navy. Still, their progress was slow, and impeded by the Aparoid invasion.

Stowing the negative shortcomings, the General ordered an update on the study of the ship's hull.

An electronic trill was followed by two separate viewpoints provided by external cameras, and after a moment the resident analyst droid chimed.

"The ship's name is written down the side, "UNSC Aegis Fate," and it is spelled out in Lylat-Standard. Armor is rated as a Titanium compound. The ship itself is larger than standard cruiser classification, with calculated dimensions at 490 meters length by 156 width, and 112.2 meters high."

"Amazing," The general marvelled at the unlikely odds that the other dimension used similar linguistics.

"The multiple universe theorem does suggest that there could be parallel worlds, we must share some similarities with this specimen." Beltino supplied helpfully.

"It doesn't match any known signatures, and the Cornerian database doesn't have any ship classified at such a size…no applicable input for the acronym 'UNSC."

The animals waited for a moment while Beltino tapped out a few more search queries, and when all came up nil, he crossed his arms over his chest.

"I'm not reading any power output from the vessel, and our scans cannot penetrate the armor plating."

General Pepper regarded the vessel in silence, pondering the next course of action.

"Too many people and we risk a safe exit if there's any complications in the ship. Run another scan for emergency beacons or life signs, then bring us in for insertion. If there's anything alive on the ship we are obligated to provide aid, as long as it's not hostile."

"Copy, General."

Before he exited the room, Pepper looked out once more at the derelict hanging there dead in space. For some reason, the image of being helpless out there in the frozen black made a shiver pass through him.

"On the double, people."

"Aye sir."

* * *

On board a CDF landing craft, a canine Sergeant barked orders to the boarding team.

"Get sorted out for a zero-G excursion; close quarters weapons only. We've encountered a Derelict and have a priority to extract any ship logs, nav data or survivors if at all possible."

The clatter and rustle of gear being adjusted quickly filled the hanger. In a few moments, Pepper's voice sounded off over the intercom.

"Gold Team, you have permission to approach."

"Acknowledged. Team, form up on the door. Lieutenant Daxter, get us to an entry point."

"Aye aye, Sgt Shepard."

The orange mammal piloting the craft accelerated, drawing them closer to the massive ship. Maneuvering them with expertly directed throttle, the boarding craft latched onto what appeared to be an airlock, and began hissing as a seal was established.

"_Decontamination Complete"_

Establishing a proper mated seal with the derelict's entry point was difficult, but not impossible for Lt. Daxter. With some careful maneuvers in zero-g, by way of discharging small oxygen bursts, the landing craft aligned itself with a hatch and connected one of its lower loading bays with the dead ship.

With a pressurized hiss, the airlock slid open. Amid the squealing hydraulics, Shepard and his lance formation spread out into the dark corridor of what appeared to be one of the ship's emergency exits.

The interior was almost black in the dead of space. The team was secured to the floor by magnetic clamps only, so every step was a slightly awkward adjustment as the disengaged upon consciously lifting one's leg. Their hardsuit floodlights cut through the inky blackness, illuminating bulkheads and piping that ran the length of the passage. Debris floated through the spaces in-between, almost giving the impression of an underwater crevice long forgotten.

Suppressing thoughts of deep-sea creatures, the Sergeant flashed a hand signal forward, and the group advanced soundlessly down the corridor. All the while his eyes darted from macabre shadow to shadow, determined to spot whatever could be waiting for them first.

Along the walls, various designations and directions were displayed in Lylat Common. _Engineering, Cryo A, Cryo B, Armoury, Bridge…_ Following the colour coded indicators for the ship's CIC, Shepard turned the corner slowly before snapping his rifle up instinctively.

It was like a sci fi vid. The whole thing so vividly unreal, so _alien_ to what the Cornerians were used to. Fewer lighted displays, subdued colors, raw steel and unusual instrument panels. The canine suppressed a shiver and went on.

They were in a room that appeared to be a mess hall meant for at least a battalion level of personnel. Polymer tables were bolted in neat rows all along the length of the chamber, counters and vending interfaces spaced out along the far walls. What drew the Sergeant's immediate attention, however, were the bodies.

Floating through the vacuum was the grisly evidence of a vicious firefight.

Alien bodies hung lifelessly, puppets with their strings forever cut. They were garbed in subdued military colours, OD and grey underneath green modular armour plating that covered only the torso, forearms and shins. Some helmets bobbed about, as well as a number of caps, boonies and berets. All were marred by the copper stain of blood.

The aliens themselves were strange. They resembled the people of Lylat close enough, bearing a startling similarity to monkeys and apes, although they had a different facial structure and much more exposed skin.

The team froze, staring out at the horrific scene. That level of bloodshed was unheard of in Lylat, most weaponry cauterizing wounds and space warfare eliminating most evidence afterwards. One of the soldiers retched in his suit, panicking as he hit a waste nozzle to clear his helmet.

There were thousands of glinting specks floating about, shining almost painfully in the halogen lights the team were using. Squinting, Sergeant Shepard reached out and plucked a sample from the air.

Recognizing it after a moment, he realized the specks were cartridge casings. Cornerians had been using gunpowder based kinetic rounds up until the discovery of laser weaponry, after which they were abandoned in favour of a more efficient, sanitary and high-powered medium.

"Sir?"

Shepard turned to find a corporal holding a black rifle out to him; one of the weapons floating about. It had a bull pup design, and an angular front, with a hardened module where the optics should be. The lettering 'MA5C Misriah Armory' was stamped into the frame. Shouldering the weapon towards the wall illuminated a blue ammunition counter as the canine's finger passed over the trigger housing. The numbers indicated on the display were '00.'

He looked back to the bodies, dimly aware of a private cradling a helmet in fascination from the corner of his eye.

None of these uniforms resembled anything he could name. The camouflage patterns didn't match anything current-issue, and the hardware was woefully inadequate. No combat personnel in the CF would be fielded with such limited armour, let alone apparently without _shields_.

"Let's keep moving." The Sergeant ordered firmly.

Crossing the threshold, they passed what appeared to be several hulks resembling apes wearing power armour. Oversized pistols with wicked curved talons clattered through the disturbed space nearby.

"Looks like Andross's uglier cousin," quipped a private.

"Looks like _your_ cousin."

"Knock it off you two," the Sergeant barked, "I want clear fields of fire."

Returning to attention, the team advanced through the mess until they found a connecting hallway, and began their progression towards the bridge.

"Fairchild Station to ground team."

The Sergeant brought his paw up to the side of his helmet, "Go ahead."

"We've just finished deep scans on the ship, and you're not going to believe this… That thing's packing 2 feet of titanium armour plating."

The Sergeant frowned, that much battle-plate was prohibitively expensive, especially on a ship this size. Titanium? Ablative and reactive armour was more common in Lylat than that, even with the cost/effectiveness ratio.

"Keep us posted," he replied absently.

"Aye sergeant."

Further down the rabbit hole they went. The sound of his own breathing was the only audible cue the canine had as he moved. To his left, a private signaled him with a wave.

"Sergeant, the bridge is just ahead."

Entering the ship's CIC, the team observed rows of terminals presumably dedicated to the ship's electronic and warfare suites. Transparent grid displays lay dormant, and from beyond a railing separating a larger display from an inset row of consoles most likely dedicated to point-defense, was a row of hardened viewports looking out over the asteroid field, and the speckled flurry of stars beyond it.

"Callahan," the Sergeant indicated the prominent center console, "I want you to establish a connection to the system if you can. Todd, Williams, on the doors."

To the replied affirmatives, the team separated to their designated duties with practiced ease. The Sergeant stood slightly behind Callahan as she worked on the unknown console.

"I'm drawing on the ship's reserve power now," the Golden Retriever let her fingers dance over her datapad, "Trying to establish a handshake signal…"

Her leader observed silently, letting the tech specialist work.

"Almost…Fascinating, really, I'm being forced to try a manual recognition; None of the standard programming protocols are respon-"

The lights on the console suddenly lit up, as evidently something the private did worked. Letters scrolled across the terminal screen, ending in a sort of information desktop. Callahan highlighted the HELP category with her finger, and was proven right when she had assumed the screen was a touch-sensitive interface as well.

It was plain green text glowing across a black background, apparently some sort of automated system judging by the heading.

"_HAL" Command Module UNSC 'Dumb' AI SN#20857262849H_

_Help/Directory/Search_

_Please state the nature of your query:__

The Retriever looked up to her sergeant, who keyed in the Cornerian officials overseeing their operation. After a brief instruction he relayed to her that they were initially to locate any survivors.

'_Where is the crew?'_

_Error 404/Highlight lifesigns y/n?_

'_y'_

_1 lifesign [cryo bay A]_

'_Restore Power'_

_Error 404/ Operation of the Aegis Fate's point defense and offensive weapon suites was the extent of my assignment in the previous operating cycle. Command of the vessel remains under the authority of the highest ranking officer on the ship._

"Why is that?" The Sergeant pressed.

_Command authority was relinquished from Captain Stirling after he was declared KIA. Following UNSC protocol, the highest ranking commissioned officer assumes command, followed by the highest non-commissioned officer if casualties are significant enough to deny any above that rank._

The Sergeant bit back the growing tide of questions he needed to ask the 'Dumb' AI, and focused on the mission priority.

"Ask about the lifesign aboard this ship. We're here to evacuate them to safety if possible."

_There is a survivor aboard the ship in cryo bay A. WARNING: Medical attention required._

"Where then? Can you show us the way?"

The blinked and a set of emergency lights came to life along the floor, snaking off into the darkness of the ship's interior.

'_Cryo Bay A. Please follow the indicator lights.'_ Could be heard from tinny-sounding speakers somewhere.

"Why do I get the feeling there's something scary down there?" The Sergeant's eyes narrowed in distrust.

The team proceeded in silence now, treading through corridors as they neared what the crimson directional prompts read as _Cryo Bay A_.

Entering a hallway adjacent to a number to subsections, Shepard spotted the designation they were looking for, and led his team in.

The interior was high-ceilinged, for the overlooking observation post where technicians most likely assisted in this bay's operation. Countless pipes and rubberized tubes lined the walls, hooked up to rows of pods sitting up against the walls at acute angles. Yellow and black striped warning labels indicated the moving edges of Plexiglas canopies, and warning signs decorated the walls. One of the imprints along a pod's side read _Jakubaitis Standard Systems Mark VIII Cryogenic Suspension Chamber._

The floor lights no longer led the way, and instead, halogens activated over a single pod in particular. Taking this as a cue from the HAL system, Shepard and his team proceeded, and gathered to peer into the observation panel.

There was an armoured figure inside. An aerodynamic helmet with a reflective blue visor adorned it's head, and heavy plates and interlocked pauldrons covered the torso and arms. Underneath the ballistic protection was some sort of fitted under armour, likely a synthetic weave for vacuum and element protection. The markings 'ODST' could be read, as well as a medical information patch on the right shoulder. A hardsuit of black and gunmetal grey.

There was a chilling moment of silence as the team confronted the fact that they were in a room with a living creature from another dimension.

"Sturdy looking guy," Todd quipped, "His armour's much different from the rest…Is it even male?"

_Affirmative. Gunnery Sergeant Jack Reynolds, service number 92458-37017-JR._

"The only surviving crew's a non-com?" Williams furrowed her brow, disturbed by the implication of that fact.

_Yes. Casualties were extensive when boarding parties assaulted the ship. After the crew was killed in action the only course of action available was to prevent the ship's capture by venting the atmosphere._

There was undoubtedly very much that he wanted to grill the 'Dumb' AI about, however for now, Sgt Shepard double-checked his hardsuit's oxygen supply when he heard that, "Is it safe for us to move him?"

_Not without the pod. The occupant's armour has been ruptured by hostile fire, a zero-gee environment would be fatal._

There was the groan of metal twisting.

_Disengaging…_

With a visible lurch, the pod detached from it's moorings, and floated up off the floor by a fraction. Shepard gave an order and the team surrounded the floating container, grasping handholds as they returned slowly to the ship's inner corridors.

"Heck of a souvenir…" Callahan grumbled.

No one saw any reason to argue with her.

After the decontamination cycle, the team positioned the pod over an equipment dolly that had been placed in the airlock for them. When the Landing Craft's artificial gravity kicked in again, the pod dropped heavily onto the surface, though still mobile.

"Williams, accompany the survivor to the medbay and assist Dr. Briggs in triage. Todd, Daxter, you two help her move it."

Moving quickly, the team waited as they taxied back to the science station. Upon cycling the airlock once more, they were greeted by an armed guard of CDF marines, who directed them further along. The cryo pod was rushed up the Fairchild's lift, and into the medical wing. Inside, Dr. Briggs was preparing a cot for the patient, and had the surgical suite online.

It had been a challenge assembling a competent medical team on what was mostly a research station, although the promise of working on a totally alien lifeform drew specialists like bees to honey. Dr. Callie Briggs was herself a graduate of medical school, so being the most experienced she took command of the impromptu triage. A temporary uplink had been established with the alien vessel, to allow communication with it's automated system HAL.

The recovery team stood off to the side of the observatory window above the medical suite, the front row taken up by Cornerian brass and Beltino Toad.

The animals murmured amongst themselves, eyes raking the body of the alien creature. So similar yet so abjectly different from what they were used to. The armor was so much thicker than the normal CDF issue, bulky and black. Unlike the simplistic designs of Defence personnel uniforms, this suit covered every inch of the alien's body, and it looked _worn._ Battle damage was clearly apparent, and dried blood mixed with the frost behind the glass could be seen. The reflective visor was particularly disconcerting.

Callie's voice cut across their thoughts as she ran through diagnostics, attempting to safely resuscitate the alien with the guidance of the instructions relayed by the 'Dumb AI.'

"Thawing protocols have been running passively for the past 15 minutes. Tube shows green, bio signs nominal, cycle complete. Blowing the pins in 5…"

A handful of seconds passed, and the hiss of pressurized air heralded the opening of the pod. The hatch lifted on its own hydraulic support, and revealed the armoured figure still dusted with frost.

Two medical personnel stepped forward, and after a moment of struggle were replaced by soldiers who heaved the black armored figure out of it's pod. Placed on a modified table, the lights were focused and the medics gingerly removed the alien's helmet first, followed by the rest of the armor in turn.

He was tall, certainly at 188 centimeters (6'2"), and had chestnut hair parted to one side. A square jaw and strong brow ridge defined his angular face, which would have been considered handsome by the women present if it was not so shockingly alien.

Callie snapped out of her momentary lapse.

"Patient is male, exhibiting subdued heart rate by Cornerian standards. No fur present, hair trimmed short. Body shows signs of extended exposure to light radiation, scarring, and scans indicate hairline fractures in the bone structure. Same number of fingers and toes, limbs all appear to match simian profile. Blood type is O Positive, unusual genetic markers, filing away for further review."

The calico cat continued the medical examination of the alien, as the process was recorded by overhead cameras for posterity.

General Pepper turned to his staff and head researcher Beltino Toad.

"I want it clear that this is to remain a Level 1 Classified matter, we cannot afford Venomian spies getting wind of this discovery."

At the nods he received he then addressed Dr. Toad.

"I'm afraid I'll have to have the project records seized and sealed. While commendable, the risk of further opening rifts to other dimensions puts us all at risk we are simply not ready to face. If that ship is anything like the others in those dimensions, then we cannot stand up to an invasion force. We simply cannot."

Beltino briefly tried to argue the point, but the old hound dog was adamant. The risk of poking their muzzles where they didn't belong could bring too much harm to outweigh the possible good. The senior staff returned to the briefing room, and they prepared to review the available data before returning to Corneria.

* * *

In the following days, the Alien remained in a sedated state. The station's medics keeping him in such while they performed non-invasive study on the body, and discussed how to handle the awakening. The Cornerian forces had left, since extended stay would trigger suspicion from Venomian spies, although a token force was left on the station itself. The researchers involved were sworn to secrecy, and the ship was towed into the largest hangar bay they had available to be inspected.

A terminal system was rigged to provide dialogue between the automated 'Dumb' AI program HAL and the scientists. It was from this precious data source that the Cornerians learned more than they had ever dare dream about the alien species. Beltino Toad and Callie Briggs, as well as a few others, sat in an improvised meeting room, with a projector rigged to display visuals relayed by the alien program.

The AI spoke uninterrupted for nearly 2 hours. During the course of her debriefing, Beltino reviewed information on his datapad, gradually lowering his brows from their expression of disbelief and replacing the look with something unreadable.

_The __Human-Covenant War__, also known as __The Great War__, was a major interstellar conflict pitting the Unified Earth Government and its United Nations Space Command against the Covenant Empire during the mid-26__th__ century between February 11, 2525 and March 3, 2553._

A holographic readout was displayed over the Toad's terminal as planets, ships and battle reports were illustrated.

_The war was instigated by the Covenant, whose Prophets discovered that humans were directly related to the Forerunners. In order to keep the Covenant intact, war was declared against humanity. Over the next few decades, the Covenant, with superior firepower, tactics, and technology, overpowered humanity on hundreds of worlds, including heavily defended strongholds such as Reach. The Humans would only win scattered and costly victories._

Callie felt the sense of foreboding return, eerily similar to the feeling before the test, as she listened to the recounting of the many worlds lost. The parallels to their own system were troubling. It was possible that this Humanity existed in an alternate version of the Lylat.

_The war was incredibly costly to both sides, with over twenty-three billion humans and billions of Covenant killed during the hostilities. The war ultimately lasted for a total of twenty-eight years. _

HAL took a moment to cycle some data, and began again in vocal communication.

_The Prophets declared Humanity to be an affront to their gods (supposedly because Humans inhabited and "defiled" areas which were once Forerunner), and called for a crusade against the Human species. This "crusade" would eventually turn into mass genocide. The first battle of the war was the extended though one-sided ground battle which took place on Harvest, in which the UNSC managed to delay the Covenant long enough to evacuate many of Harvest's civilians. Eventually, the Covenant used their capital ships to glass the planet's surface._

"Glass?" Callie had a sinking suspicion she knew what that implied.

_Orbital bombardment with plasma weaponry, generated in a geometric pattern to completely render a planet uninhabitable._ HAL explained somberly.

That had the animals involuntarily gaping in shock. That level of destruction had never been attempted, ever. The Lylat Accord forbade the use of shipboard weaponry on a garden world, and even in the lawless quadrants no faction had ever tried to commit so many resources to the sheer annihilation that would be necessary to _completely_ destroy a planet.

_From that point on, the Covenant continued to attack and destroy the Humans where ever they were found. Though the UNSC forces fought bravely, their inferior technology and strategic competence meant that even a close victory even with the aid of the [DATA REDACTED] was far from guaranteed. The Covenant also had an advantage in that they didn't need to fight planet-side to destroy the enemy; their ships simply needed to destroy the Humans' space-borne defenses and any other threats around the planet, and then reduce the planet's surface to glass with orbital plasma bombardments, sometimes using the Covenant army to soften up the UNSC Army. The few victories achieved by the UNSC were due to special tactical maneuvers and the [DATA REDACTED], as human missiles and magnetic acceleration weapons were unable to compete with Covenant energy shields, plasma torpedoes and tactics. Over twenty-seven years, the Covenant whittled down the UNSC planet by planet._

_Realizing the threat posed to humanity by the Covenant, the UNSC Colonial Military Administration gave Vice Admiral Preston Cole the command of the then-largest fleet in human history with orders to retake Harvest. Cole retook Harvest in 2526, and then spent five years chasing the Covenant around the Outer Colonies, fighting them and scoring victories at Alpha Aurigae, XI Boötis A, and Groombridge-1830. Meanwhile, the Covenant returned to Harvest, determined to recapture the planet. This led to a five-year long series of engagements on Harvest between the Covenant and the UNSC._

_With the majority of the Outer Colonies glassed or abandoned, the UNSC faced an economic crisis as some of their Agriculture Worlds had been destroyed, leading to food shortages. On Charybdis IX, food riots broke out. Meanwhile, Covenant forces began to encroach on the Inner Colonies. In response, the UNSC issued United Nations Space Command Emergency Priority Order 098831A-1, "The Cole Protocol". It stated that no UNSC vessel may lead the Covenant to Earth or any other human population center. Furthermore, all movement through space was restricted to UNSC Navy vessels._

_Towards what appeared to be the obvious end of the war by 2552, the Office of Naval Intelligence was resigned to the fact that humanity may only have months left before the Covenant destroyed the remaining Inner Colonies and moved on against Earth. To try and buy time, HIGHCOM ordered all available [DATA REDACTED] to return to Reach and leave on Operation: RED FLAG, a mission to locate the Covenant homeworld and capture a Prophet to force the Covenant into a cease-fire._

Callie began to tally a number of questions that had been bothering her about the AI's explanation. There were a number of omissions, likely classified information, but something didn't add up…

_A few weeks after this defeat, the Prophet of Regret led a small Fleet of fifteen ships to Earth, supposedly in order to locate a Forerunner artifact known as the "Ark". Though hopelessly outgunned by the UNSC's new orbital defense grid of MAC guns, the Prophet of Regret's flagship managed to break through the Human defenses to New Mombasa. The Covenant ground troops quickly spread through the city, destroying both military and civilian resistance, it was only when a counter-attack by the Marines and [DATA REDACTED] drove them back Regret, with his fleet destroyed in orbit when he landed, was forced to retreat. His carrier jumped into Slipspace from within the city, damaging it severely._

_After much fighting, the Human forces on Earth on the naval side had taken heavy casualties. However, the Covenant fleet was also vastly reduced and focused on securing an enormous unearthed Forerunner structure near the ruins of New Mombasa. It was at this time that the Prophets then ordered the Jiralhanae to begin eradicating the Sangheili, thus starting the Covenant Civil War. Ultimately this led to an alliance between the Separatists and the Human forces. With the arrival of [DATA REDACTED], the remaining UNSC forces launched an assault on the area, sweeping aside all Covenant resistance and finally launching an all-out attack on the Prophet of Truth's Forerunner ship. _

_However this spectacularly failed and Truth quickly activated a large portal and escaped. Events were further complicated by an unexpected attack by the [DATA REDACTED]. Thanks to the timely arrival of the Sangheili, the [DATA REDACTED] was vanquished but not before [DATA REDACTED] recovered a recording from [DATA REDACTED], who had stayed behind on __High Charity__. [DATA REDACTED]'s message told of a means to stop the [DATA REDACTED] on the other end of the portal. A small fleet of Human and Sangheili forces was sent through the portal, leading them to the Ark, just outside the Milky Way galaxy. The Covenant fleet above the Ark immediately attacked. Though the joint Human-Sangheili fleet was outnumbered 3-1, the battle ended in defeat for the Covenant Loyalist Fleet. Simultaneous to the space battle between Jiralhanae and Sangheili ships, UNSC forces were deployed to the surface of the Ark. _

_The final battle of the war was fought in December 2552, this was known as the Battle of Installation 00, or the Battle of the Ark; as well as being the final engagement in which the Aegis Fate was involved. Human forces, despite strong resistance managed to smash through the remaining Covenant resistance on the ground. Having activated the Installation to detonate, the remaining Human and Sangheili ships escaped through the portal._

_It was during the escape that the UNSC Aegis Fate was boarded by Covenant Loyalist forces, and the majority of the crew killed in the ensuing close quarters combat. With too many ground assets dedicated to other ships, the remaining naval crew and security personnel were overwhelmed by Jiralhanae boarders. Working in tandem with the sole surviving UNSC asset onboard, GySgt Reynolds, the bridge was secured while remaining Jiralhanae were sealed into subsections of the ship and the atmosphere vented. Severely wounded, GySgt Reynolds entered cryogenic suspension. During the course of the Slipspace transition, there was a malfunction in the Shaw-Fujikawa drive, and the ship was diverted to an unknown location._

HAL paused again to minimize the displays she had running for the Cornerian's benefit.

_It has been 1,531 standard days since the events of the Battle of Installation 00. You arrived in-system and docked with the Aegis Fate as of 1623 hours Lylat time. Do you have any questions?_

Beltino collected his thoughts and leaned forward from where he had been sitting in his chair, his back popping in relief as his posture shifted.

"How exactly did the ship find itself caught by Project Spyglass's test site?"

_There are a number of theories that I have considered during the time I processed the available information during your debriefing, however, the most fundamentally sound is that the Aegis Fate had been jettisoned from its Slipspace course and stranded here via the 'Multiverse' theory by William James._

Curiously, Beltino _was_ familiar with the name. There was a Lylat equivalent of such a person who had written the same thing.

"You've mentioned Slipspace multiple times now, is that your method of FTL travel?" He asked.

_Yes, _The AI brought up a diagram that pictorially illustrated the phenomena,_ Slipstream space is a specific set of seven dimensions existing in a very small bundle. While these dimensions are present in normal space, they do not have an effect on the physics of normal space. By moving matter from the three "normal" space dimensions to Slipstream space, one effectively changes the laws of physics for that piece of matter._

"…So the drive malfunctions during passage through the third-party portal, and ends up ejecting the ship in the closest available plane," Callie idly sifted through the indicated files on Parallel Universes.

_Most likely. This is all theory, however, as I do not have the sufficient data to establish a definitive answer._

Beltino Toad reclined in his chair and rubbed his temple as he sat deep in thought. As wildly outlandish as it seemed, he couldn't argue with the massive derelict he'd just been aboard.

He was about to speak again when warning klaxons blared overhead.

"Proximity Alarm, detecting gate transmission… Profiles match Venomian assault force, they're jamming us!" A young intern spoke over the intercom with a note of rising panic.

The animals in the room felt their blood run cold. The Andross Remnants had found out about the station's cargo, and without the ability to contact CDF HQ, they were totally alone.

"Seal the airlocks! Have all personnel evacuate to the living quarters and lock themselves in! Security teams stand by to repel boarders!" Callie barked orders, seized by the dire situation they found themselves in, as people ran about in barely restrained panic. Beltino busied himself wiping the data banks. While priceless, the chance of the knowledge falling into enemy hands was unacceptable.

With her lab coat fluttering behind her, Dr. Callie Briggs ran down the station corridor towards the medical wing.

She had a patient to revive.

* * *

As the sounds of battle raged across the station, the calico cat hurried to administer the revival drugs to the alien. They had endlessly speculated over how to wake him up, although now it was too late to worry about acclimating the patient to the unfamiliar surroundings. He'd have to sink or swim.

As Callie kept looking over her shoulder at the encroaching sound of screams and laser fire, the human began to stir as the drugs took effect. Still not quick enough for her liking, she slipped one of his arms over her shoulder, and with significant struggle, pulled him off the gurney and dragged him into the storage closet where they had stowed his armor. She propped him up against the wall, and just before she closed the door she whispered,

"Whoever you are, Reynolds, I'm sorry about this. All of this."

Had she lingered a second longer, she would have seen a sliver of the human's brown eyes crack open as she closed the door.

"You there!"

Callie froze where she was over the med bay's controls, raising her arms slowly as she heard the clatter of unfamiliar boots behind her.

A dozen Venomian soldiers poured into the bay. They were all lizards and simians, garbed in the colors of the Late Andross's empire, and bearing his monochromatic symbol. Laser rifles were held loosely, and the leader scowled at the calico cat he had his pointed at.

"Over here. Move."

Callie was herded away from the Medical Wing, and soon she joined others on the station as they were collected in the main observatory. She was roughly pushed to a group of researchers alongside Beltino Toad, and forced to kneel there under armed guard.

From the central podium, Venomian soldiers flanked a single ape, who was dressed in an old officer's uniform and adorned with extensive cyborg enhancements replacing lost limb and tissue.

It was Andrew Oikonny, the leader of the remaining Venom forces.

"Cornerian Dogs!" He spate hatefully, spittle flying as he launched into one of his famous speeches, "Today, you will become part of something far greater than yourselves! All of you here will help rebuild the mighty Venomian Empire, and with the technology on this station that you tried oh-so-hard to hide, our place in the galaxy will be secure!"

While the monkey was considered a comical shadow of the terrible Andross, he had none-the-less commanded a sizable force of Venom veterans, which made his fledgling empire a real threat to the belagured CDF.

As the speech droned on, the Cornerian prisoners were informed that they were to be kidnapped and employed with the Empire, and how proud they should be to have the honor of rebuilding the Venomian dominion. It was a grim future, being shanghaied by spacefaring apes.

From one of the consoles, a lizard technician signaled Oikonny in alarm.

"Ssssir? I think you need to see thiss."

The crowd turned to the terminal screen projected overhead, which displayed a station security camera in the Medical Wing. A door opened, and Callie felt her fur stand on end.

* * *

_Pain._

The first thing he registered was pain.

Jack groaned as the semi-real dream of a talking cat faded with his rushing senses, and looked about his surroundings to find himself waking up not in a pod, but in some tiny room stocked with equipment both familiar and not.

The last thing he remembered was bugging out with the survivors of Operation Blind Faith, and making a beeline for the portal as they were boarded by Brutes. Venting atmosphere was a last-ditch measure but they must have been picked up by now…

Time-honed instincts forced the ODST to his feet, brushing himself down as he took stock of his situation. His body felt better than he had in ages, clearly he had spent time in a hospital. He was currently wearing some sort of disposable patient shirt and pants, though looking to the left discovered his black BDUs in a plastic bag and his armor neatly stacked on a shelving unit. The sound of weapons fire alerted him immediately, and hearing muffled voices outside the room stilled him.

Covenant?

When he was absolutely sure the sounds had gone further away, the trooper began to strip, and quickly donned his blacks, buckling on armor afterwards. He booted up the VISIR system in his HUD and keyed the UNSC E-Band com frequency.

"This is GySgt Reynolds to any UNSC forces, status request, say again, status request."

Only silence and static.

The trooper frowned, and searched the closet. He had only his armor and combat knife, but if the Covenant were lurking he'd need a weapon. Along the shelving he found additional plastic bags that contained his incendiary grenades, frags, his M6C/SOCOM pistol and magazines. He quickly opened the packaging and loaded his gear, inserting a fresh mag and chambering a round as he regarded the strange equipment he could not identify. Where exactly was he?

Chinning the VISIR controls, the trooper accessed information with his neural implant, scrolling through the map data and audio channels. There was no record of where he was, and no map, however his locator did register a handshake signal with a UNSC weapons cache that was apparently stowed on the same floor he was.

Steeling himself, the ODST knew he had to arm himself properly if he was going to survive this mess. Was he even on Earth?

The door was activated, and Jack stepped through with his M6 at the ready.

* * *

Back in the Observatory, Oikonny growled at the sight of the black armored figure stepping through the Medical Wing.

"What is _that?"_

Callie bit back a gasp as her eyes, and those of the science team, were riveted on the object of their study actually walking around. She felt a mounting panic as she realized the Venomians would try to kill him, not knowing what the alien was.

"You missed one!" Oikonny shouted at his fireteam leader, "Hurry and dispose of that straggler!"

"Yes my Emperor," The lizard saluted and quickly marched off amid the shouting of the prisoners.

* * *

He heard them before he saw them.

Undisciplined shouting, sloppy movement, it was hardly the uniformed efficiency he had become used to in the UNSC, or the savagery of the much larger Covenant forces. Strange, foreign.

The ODST took cover behind a corner, and sighted his pistol down into the open corridor, securing a killzone for anything that would bottleneck out of the doors on the far side. The hiss of hydraulics accompanied the opening, and he centered his crosshairs on a head before he even identified what he was confronted with.

It was some kind of lizard, and the fact it was not human was enough.

The M6 kicked in his grip, and a spray of red awarded him the first strike. The aliens recoiled at the sudden attack, and began pouring lasers down the hallway, rushing towards him.

Jack was no stranger to attack runs like such, Elites favoured similar tactics, though they had the shields to back it up. Evidently these aliens did not, or they were ineffective in stopping the 12.7x40mm Magnum rounds. He minimized his exposed profile and fired additional rounds downrange, killing four more aliens approaching his position. When the last four stumbled over the fallen bodies of their comrades the ODST primed an incendiary and tossed it directly at the leader's chest.

A cloud of fire enveloped the remaining aliens, lizards and apes apparently, and they screamed as they attempted to douse the sudden fire. They died quickly, and the trooper quickly dashed past the bodies, snatching a laser rifle off the floor as he did so.

Following the NAV beacon, Jack entered what appeared to be a lab as questions raced through his head.

'What the hell are those things? Monkeys? Lizards? Where's everyone else? I didn't sign up for this sci fi shit!'

Muttering darkly under his breath, the ODST scoured the tables and found a collection of weapons spread across them. He ditched the unfamiliar Laser Rifle and picked up an M7S Submachine Gun, and locked several stick magazines onto his armor. He locked a shotgun to the magnetic clamps on his back and packed several dozen shells in one of his pouches. An SRS99C-S2 AM Anti-Material rifle was a heavy son of a bitch, but Jack would be damned if he didn't go into this fight loaded for bear. It was heavy, carrying two rifles, an SMG and a pistol, but not as heavy as a deep reconnaissance rucksack.

He racked the slide on his M7S SMG, and shouldered it as he prowled through the doorway. Looks like it was a desperate time wherever the hell he was.

"Time for the desperate measures."

* * *

"Sssir?"

"What is it now?!" Oikonny was less than enthused at having been interrupted _twice _during one of his speeches.

"The unknown hass killed the response team."

There was a look of confusion on the ape's face, before he ordered the large main screen to feed security footage from the area of the station in question.

The animals present, Cornerian and Venomian both, watched as the black armored alien moved with unnatural fluidity from room to room, drawing closer to the central Observatory.

"Send out all the fireteams!" Andrew barked, pounding his fist on the podium, "Get rid of that miserable insect!"

Speech forgotten, the remainder of Oikonny's raiding party watched, along with the captive scientists, as the Venomian soldiers met the alien.

There was something very wrong in the air, everyone could feel it. Two opposing forces which should never have met were fighting there before them. The way the alien moved, the way he killed, it was foreign in so many minute ways to what the Lylat normally was. How he held his rifle, the movements, the tactics. An entire other culture, species, parallel yet different. Watching the armored soldier, Callie crossed her fingers where she knelt, praying for the stranger's survival.

* * *

And then, the battle was joined.

Jack wasn't stupid. Even if these new aliens weren't Elites or Jackals, sheer numbers would kill him as sure as anything.

They were in some sort of lobby area, terminals spaced throughout that looked to be research stations, littered with gear and papers. Laser fire burned the surrounding bulkheads and filled the air with the sharp smell of ozone, as Reynolds took cover behind a thick pillar.

Dropping to one knee, he snapped out and fired a burst at a lizard manning an automatic laser cannon first, and returned to cover. He popped out on the opposite side to cap what looked like a commander shouting orders. The bolts were still coming too close, so he threw a fragmentation grenade around the pillar, waited for the report, and dashed to alternate cover, sliding as the explosion shook the room.

Using the confusion, he fired off several more bursts from the M7S and slapped in a full mag. Ducking under cover, he unlimbered the SRS99C Sniper Rifle, and propped it over the desk he was behind, using the folded bipod to steady it.

The massive 14.5x114mm cartridges were meant to tackle vehicles, armor and shielded elites twice as large as a human. Against the more conventionally sized Venomians, the weapon was a nightmare.

The first ape ended above the jaw in a spray of red, and jackknifed in place as the kinetic force of the round yanked his body. A lizard next to him pin wheeled away as his chest was torn by the follow-up shot. The ODST strafed right, acquiring targets highlighted red in his VISIR and marking them with a resounding crack of a gunshot.

One of the aliens must have been smarter than the rest, because amid some screaming the force separated in a rough flanking maneuver. An errant laser bolt clipped one of his shoulder pauldrons and stung, smouldering as the plating failed to stop it. The trooper spat another round into an alien lugging what looked like a gatling gun, and shouldered the Anti-Material rifle, opting for the shotgun as he retreated.

Falling back to the junction before the lobby, Jack hefted the M90 CAWS(close assault weapon system) and waited for the first hostile to come within spitting distance.

The M90 was a favoured weapon of UNSC front line infantry for over 27 years, the 8 Gauge shells providing a massive punch and spread that significantly reduced the risk of puncturing spaceship hull plating. In close quarters the thing was more of a tool than a weapon.

A pair of apes rounded the door frame in pursuit of their retreating quarry, and received twin blasts of 8 Gauge 0000 buckshot as a welcome. The ODST's practiced fingers slipped two new shells in the tube in the lull, having fought the flood personally instilled a fanatic need to keep his shotgun fully loaded.

The chokepoint gave the trooper a level of control as he engaged the hostiles filtering through. Fire and thunder roared from the M90 as laser fire pockmarked the corridor walls. Facing a pause in combat, Jack shuffled forward and formed up on the door, swinging around at the ready. No more additional contacts were visible, but the helljumper was on a hair-trigger as usual.

Proceeding at a jog through the ruined lobby, he came to a central subsection of the station, which was a big open chamber that featured an elevator along the center supports to reach alternate levels. Dropping to prone, he crawled to the edge of his platform and took up the SRS99 once more, unsnapping the bipod.

The aliens were highly exposed, the facility clearly not built with military intent. Jack took aim and compensated for the distance and speed of the running lizard he was sighted in on, and depressed the trigger.

The spray of blood and the stumbling confusion of the group gave the trooper another free shot, before they scattered into cover. Jack took a breath and waited patiently.

The next few seconds passed in a deadly exchange of gunfire. The high ground and oblique angle of the ODST's perch gave him a superior position, although he kept an eye on his motion tracker to avoid being snuck up on. Having a spotter would be nice. Having a regiment of pissed-off Helljumpers would be better.

Sniping the last straggler, Jack abandoned the Anti-Material rifle, having only 2 rounds left for what the weight would be. He withdrew his M7S SMG again, and advanced to the elevator. Most of the aliens were coming from the top, so it's likely the command center could be found there.

He was about to step onto the lift, when he noticed a UNSC weapons crate among some unidentifiable alien science equipment, and a quick look at the label made him smile under his opaque visor.

"Everything is going to be alright."

* * *

Andrew Oikonny was many things, but a complete idiot was not one of them(although close).

When 70% of his raiding party failed to stop the encroaching unknown, he ordered the remaining soldiers to guard the prisoners and fled to his personal shuttle and returned to the cruiser he had flown in on.

The scientists were herded to a corner of the room and kept under a pair of guards, while the remaining forces hunkered down and prepared to engage the murderous alien. Despite the urgency, whispers of mutiny and fear were among the Venomain troops. This black armored thing took out 40 guys, what were they supposed to do against that kind of bad news?

Among the Cornerians, excited murmurs discussed the human soldier.

"I've never seen anyone shoot like that, his aim was incredible."

"The way his hands flashed up and recharged that weapon, quick as lightning!"

"Clearly some sort of special forces equivalent, if the variations in the armor found are any indication then…"

Callie tuned out the slightly hysterical chatter of those around her. While the approaching alien was a welcome alternative to being slaves on Venom, he couldn't possibly know they meant him no harm. For all the good it did he might hose them down in automatic weapons fire too.

The calico cat peeked at the two guards keeping the many scientists secured in the corner of the antechamber. Only two armed guards against more than a hundred people. Young wimpy interns and infirm old researchers people at that.

The feline sighed, feeling her hears flick back. What an awful, awful day.

Out in front of the elevator blast shielding, the Venomian tensed as the indicator light flashed, and the heavy doors slid open.

Laser bolts immediately poured into the space, totally filling the elevator as panicked trigger fingers created a literally glowing stream of hurt.

"Cease fire, cease fire!"

The ringing silence afterwards was accompanied only by the hiss of melted bulkheads. A number of Venom raiders stepped out of cover and approached the open doors.

The ODST stepped out from behind the corner of the elevator like a jagged black nightmare, and hefted a heavy device that had what looked like a shark's maw painted on it.

A torrent of fire erupted from the weapon, reaching 44 feet with it's liquid fuel payload. Shields and armor did nothing to stop the burning ruin, and over a dozen apes and lizards were set alight and screaming in the exchange.

The M7057/Defoliant Projector, or flamethrower, was the human invention of a particularly sick individual. The story goes that one day a man though 'Gee, I'd sure like to set those people over there on fire, but I'm just not close enough to get the job done.' He told his friend, who told another friend, who told an engineer who built a prototype that killed him, but then another engineer built a new design and it _worked_, and thusly a sick and inhumane weapon was born.

While human conventions outlawed the use of flamethrowers in war, the UNSC utilized them primarily in conjunction with a cart to clear foliage. However, in contact with Flood parasites, the M7057 was particularly useful in clearing swarms and dug in infestations, although most troops would balk at even subjecting the Covenant to death by fire. GySgt Reynolds saw no reason why he should not ignite the apes and lizards that had taken an interest in ventilating his favorite head.

Regardless, the sheet of flame had bought the trooper some time, and a valuable method of getting out of a sure fire deathtrap that was the elevator. Now behind cover, the ODST withdrew his M7S again, and popped up to engage the remaining hostiles.

The 5x23mm caseless FMJ rounds arced downrange, the only sounds being the spitting of the high velocity rounds leaving the suppressor and the clatter of mechanical parts operating in the SMG. Bright red laser bolts were returned, filling the air with an acrid smell and illuminating the Observatory in neon. The trooper advanced from point to point, gunning down his steadily panicking enemies.

Upon reaching what looked to be a large atrium, Jack paused behind a support pillar as he eyed a massive crowd of what looked like civvies.

Fuzzy civvies. As in fur and whiskers. He brought up his medical status just to verify he wasn't swimming in morphine and currently having a seizure in an orderly room somewhere.

Well nothing made sense anymore, what with the Master Chief crash landing on earth from some alien starship and the Elites calling for a truce and then some ancient super weapon that would kill the universe…several levels above his paygrade. At least these hostiles died faster when he shot them.

Resolved, Jack spun the corner and dropped to one knee, firing a burst center mass into one of the two soldiers guarding the civvies. The lizard impacted the wall and slid down in his own blood, while the other moved to return fire. He had a good angle, were it not for a cat-thing that leapt up from the crowd and latched onto the monkey, wrestling with his laser rifle.

The ODST tried to get a bead on the hostile, but there was no way for him to make the shot safely, so he locked his M7S back on his hip and charged forward. The ape had just begin to turn the weapon back towards the trooper before a black gauntleted fist caught him in the temple.

There was a moment of silence as Jack regarded the easily hundreds of aliens in labcoats watching him, as well as the cat who was staring at him.

"Are you alright ma'am?" It had been a while since Jack had dealt with civilians, but old habits die hard.

She, and looking closely he could tell the gender clearly, was some sort of cat that stood like a human. Long blonde hair was pulled into a ponytail, out of which two ears poked up, twitching at sudden noises. Jack felt an unnatural inclination to pet her and find a bowl of milk.

"I'm fine, thank you…" She looked to be steadying herself as best she could, given the circumstances. Non-military personnel always had a hard time when suddenly confronted by the terrible confusion and violence of combat. Jack looked over at the many other animals talking amongst themselves in the atrium.

"If you wouldn't mind ma'am, where am I, and what's going on?"

He thought he had been pretty reasonable thus far, not flipping his lid and gunning down the maybe/human animal hybrids. It had been an awful day so far, going from Earth to the Ark to…wherever this was.

"I'm sorry, you must be terribly confus-"

An explosion rocked the station, and the trooper very nearly lost his footing, shouts erupted as the sound of ship-borne weapons fire vibrated through the structure.

"It's Oikonny! He must be firing from his heavy cruiser!" A bespectacled toad which had been organizing the animals prior spoke up.

Jack's opaque visor swivelled in on him, "Is this station equipped with point defences?"

"No, we're not a military installation," Responded the amphibian with worry.

The ODST pulled up his NAV data and examined the elevator subsection as another explosion rocked the station.

"You brought me here, where did you put the ship I was on?"

The cat answered this time, "It's secured in the largest hangar bay, the lowest level."

He turned to her, reflective visor mirroring her worried green eyes, "My ship can fire a Thermonuclear Warhead even when docked, if you can lead me there we may have a chance."

The calico cat nodded, and amid shouted orders and a flurry of activity from the civilians, Jack followed her at a breakneck pace to the elevators. The rest of the scientists fell back to more secure areas of the station, although risk of depressurization was very real no matter where they went.

"Callie."

"What?" the ODST turned to look quizzically at his guide.

"My name's Callie Briggs," She gave him a tired smile, "I'm sure you're confused right now, but that's the best I can do for the moment."

The trooper stared at her a moment longer, and then depolarized his faceplate.

"Gunnery Sergeant Jack Reynolds, and I appreciate you fixing me up ma'am."

"I'll do my best to answer your questions as soon as we're out of this mess, but for now please just follow me!"

The odd pair exited the elevator and rushed across the floor of the auxiliary hangar, the massive profile of the Aegis Fate hanging suspended by several support struts and clamps.

"You've been busy," Jack remarked as they headed up to the UNSC vessel's internal bays.

"You've been comatose for about a week now, we haven't had time to catalogue or secure just everything yet," Callie replied.

"There's a Longsword Interceptor equipped with a Shiva tactical nuke, I need you to come with me and man the navigation console so we can hit that thing shooting the station."

"Right."

The hangar of the Aegis Fate was in an interrupted state of dissray, what few vehicles remained after the battle of Installation 00 were scattered about the bay, although a single GA-TL1 Longsword had survived.

The strange pair thundered up the gangplank, and Jack directed the cat to the seat next to him as he strapped down in the cockpit and fired up the Starfighter.

Jack hit the ignition, and raced through what he remembered of the impromptu flight school training he got on Jericho IV. Having to take up air defence because most of the real pilots were dead…_that_ was a fubar op alright.

The systems powered up, and the twin fusion reactors of the 64x75 meter fighter/bomber came on with a whine, afterburners spitting fire as the craft lifted from it's cradle and taxied out of the hangar.

"Briggs, I'll need you to prime and launch the Shiva Missile when I get us within range."

The ODST hit the acceleration, pushing the Longsword around the lip of the station's ring and about to face the single heavy cruiser bombarding the complex with it's laser batteries.

"I don't know any of these systems!" The cat's hands fluttered over the controls as she tried to make sense of the unfamiliar UI, before Jack pointed at a specific command line.

"There, first unlock the safeties on the warhead, and set it to remote detonate at a radio signal."

"Dammit Jack! I'm a Doctor, not a Weapons Tech!"

The ODST sighed as Callie handled the nuke, the cruiser had apparently picked them up, and paused in it's bombardment to fire off several bolts towards the diminutive space craft. A number of interceptors were released from it's own bays, and they zipped out to meet the UNSC vessel, appearing like some sort of metallic butterflies.

Reynolds banked the Longsword hard to the right, and brought it in at an oblique angle to ward off the incoming fire. He thumbed the button for the 110mm Rotary Cannons, spilling a silent stream of kinetic rounds into the oncoming fighters. His aim wasn't great, he never spent time in the chairforce, but one of the hostiles peeled off and exploded as it got caught in the stream of rounds.

Deploying several Moray space mines to keep the small fry busy, Jack hit the throttle and bypassed them entirely, intent on reaching the effective range of the missile before they got clipped by a ship borne laser that would ruin them.

"Briggs, we need that missile primed and ready."

"Ready to fire, just say the word!"

The heavy cruiser drew closer, dominating the majority of the Longsword's viewport. The sheer size of the thing they were about to attack was daunting, but Jack was no stranger to having giant alien starships staring him down like an insect.

"It's now or never pussycat."

If he wasn't behind several layers of titanium and ceramic composite armor, Jack was sure Callie's glare would have physically hurt. She mashed the fire control and the Longsword shook slightly as it's deadly payload rocketed off towards the cruiser.

As the calico cat sent the detonation code, 30 megatons of nuclear explosion tore the heavy cruiser in half. Like layers of aluminium foil being ripped to shreds, the hull of the cruiser was flayed by the sheer force of the detonation. Fire and atmosphere surrounded the ship in a death shroud, as multiple shuttles spun out of the cargo bays and escaped via hyper drive.

Callie slumped in her seat, even her ears drooping as the exhausted feline let out a rumble of displeasure.

"All I wanted to do was sleep in today, that's all I ever do on Saturdays…"

Jack popped the seal on his helmet and set it on the console after sweeping for surviving hostiles.

"I haven't slept in a real bed for 3 years…"

The cat and the human rested in silence as the comms came alive with station personnel notifying the CDF of their being jammed and boarded. Multiple Cornerian ships were on their way to establish a security cordon, and medical staff were already treating the wounded on the Fairchild station.

"Hey."

"Hm?"

Jack turned, cracking an eyelid to look at the calico cat, when he got himself a light slap on the cheek.

"Don't call me pussycat ever again, buster."

He stared at her flatly, her irate expression frozen, before they both dissolved into helpless laughter; All the stress and tension of the previous few hours melting away.


	2. Chapter 2

It didn't get easier over time. After so many years losing friends, family, fellow soldiers…you just became numb to it. Another crease on a troubled face and another round chambered; back to fighting.

Except there was no more fighting to be done. They'd set off the ark, and all those stinking Brutes could pound sand for all they cared while the damn thing erupted beneath them, with what's left of the UNSC and covvie fleets racing back through the portal.

At least that had been the plan.

Turns out a boarding party had decided to take a crack at the Fate, and with Reynolds' squad being the only real combat troops evacuating to that rally point, well…things hadn't gone in their favor.

They'd defended every inch of bulkhead as best they could, but engineers with pistols can't match a 400 pound gorilla with power armour. Most of the crew bought it while the ship was accelerating for the portal, and the rest were too badly hurt to be saved with no medics on board.

Reynolds sat on the edge of his fold-out cot, staring at the wall.

Since the counter attack against the Venomain Raiders, his contact with the Cornerians had been limited up to this point. Touring with Callie around the Fate and explaining details with HAL's assistance was a welcome distraction from his current predicament, and the turmoil within.

A rough decade of fighting and hating xenobiology was not conducive to proper behaviour in a whole new galaxy full of them. This was unavoidable now with his being stranded in Lylat.

He ran his hand across his face, massaging the dark circles that had appeared under his eyes from lack of sleep. Miss Briggs had been very thorough and patient dealing with the disoriented trooper.

The yawning absence of a war was like a hole in the chest. The Gunnery Sergeant could not quite wrap his head around a humanity not fighting for its life. He still kept his sidearm loaded and on his person, expecting Elites to materialize out of the black with glowing plasma blades at the ready. Paranoia dies hard.

He'd frozen when Callie had once casually touched his shoulder to direct him. A rookie reaction; but he was thrown by the casual acceptance of the animals. His conditioned response was to open fire, but the men and women chatting amicably with each other threw him for a loop.

Miss Briggs had stressed the concept. Jack had some understanding now of the alien species that occupied this 'verse. He was reminded that hostile actions would not be tolerated, and much like a disciplinary hearing went through the codes of conduct.

The tension… he didn't know how he was going to handle it.

One moment he's crawling into a cryo-tube bleeding all over; Next he wakes up to be told there's no war, and no Covenant. Like a coiled spring, Reynolds felt the edge of frontline state-of-mind wearing on him. He just hoped he wouldn't lash out instinctively like some of those PTSD cases in a crowded civil sector. He'd known boys who'd gone down that road.

Jack cradled his head in his hands.

Now what? Become a veterinarian? The Cornerian Army was a peacekeeping force, but an ODST didn't do peacekeeping. Jack wasn't trained to handle firefights with restraint or regard for civil bylaws. He arrived violently, and did a spectacular job of continuing the trend as the mission progressed.

"No point stressing over it…" he thought morosely, "You'll have plenty of time to get used to the idea."

Jack stood up and cricked his back, relishing the pop of tired joints. He decided to visit the Quartermaster and get his gear kitted out; anything to take his mind off the jarring transition from hopeless extinction to mild irritation over space monkeys had undergone during his Cryo nap.

Suppressing the urge to smash something, Reynolds pulled his effects out of a bin placed in a cubby hole, and slipped on his black ODST shirt; name on the right and UNSC emblem on the left, with his regimental number and the helljumper tag on the back. Some black trousers from the battle dress uniform(BDUs) came next, followed by the combat boots that were meant to fit with the hardsuit. He left his armour piled neatly in another bin, looking clean for a change.

Besides, some folks got intimidated-like when you were staring at them through a polarized visor. Seeing the Master Chief towering over him with the same look imparted a new perspective to the trooper.

* * *

The first order of business was to give the bodies a proper send off.

All 121 bodies and remains of the naval personnel who had served and died aboard the Aegis Fate were stripped to their service uniform and placed in deep freeze. The CSV Hound Dog took charge of hosting the honored dead, who would be buried on one of Corneria's moons under the guise of an 'Unknown Soldier' memorial. It was a thoughtful gesture.

Cornerian Defence Force men and women combed the Fate for two days, recovering weapons and loose gear, cataloging them and comparing against the ship's manifest. Thousands of polymer containers and crates were shuffled about two Carriers assigned to inventory.

The bodies of the Jiralhanae were separated from the rest of the find, as was the existing Covenant technology. The boarding craft they had left were secured in the CSV Triumphant's hangar, and draped in grey tarp.

When some semblance of order could finally be found, and assurance that the dead would be given proper respect, Gunnery Sergeant Jack Reynolds agreed to give an in-depth tour of the ship to a small group of Cornerian brass and scientists.

* * *

"The Aegis Fate is a Charon-class light frigate. Of the three classes of frigate being Paris, Charon and Stalwart, she is a dedicated support vessel. She is intended to carry a large complement of dropships, ground forces, and ground vehicles. It's not as heavily armed or armored as other escort vessels of similar design, again her role is fleet support and troop transport, although she's still capable of ship-to-ship combat."

Reynolds was walking backwards slowly as he shouted out his introduction to the assembled group in the Fate's main hangar. He gestured and pointed to specific equipment as he spoke, taking care to let his voice carry to those at the rear, lest he need to repeat himself.

"On the way here you might have seen an elongated bay overlooking the entry point for the main hangar. That's the SOEIV bay; stands for Single Occupant Exoatmospheric Insertion Vehicle. They're drop pods made of Titanium and ceramic coating to allow individual soldiers fast entry into enemy held territory, negating their use of AA batteries that would take out slower, larger troop transports."

"Were you trained in their use?" Asked a Scottish terrier Colonel peering dubiously at the row of pods locked in place.

"Yes sir I was," Jack replied, "Orbital Drop Shock Troopers are specifically trained in that manner of insertion, though with a one-in-thirty chance of burning up and digging your own grave, it's an all-volunteer outfit. Plus they give you a shiny helmet," he quirked a grin.

"Oh cripes…" Somebody murmured. If any of them thought a dropship's entry was turbulent, it couldn't compare with this.

"You actually get fired out of the ship and go crashing through the atmosphere on fire and out of control?" One of the lead researchers questioned.

"There's a backup chute," the ODST replied.

"In case of failure?"

"No, for extra shelter when you land. It never works if the first one fails. Moving on!" Reynolds turned to the left.

"As you can see, heavy hydraulics motors are in place along the walls of the hangar to allow it to be lowered, and the sides exposed for mass-deployment of vehicles and equipment on a planet's surface. Of the vehicles we have, let's start with the M274 Ultra-Light All-Terrain Vehicle, also affectionately known as the Mongoose."

The Gunnery Sergeant hopped onto the olive armoured ATV and bounced it up and down to test the shocks.

"It's pretty nimble for its size; add to that the fact that it can do ninety plus kilo papa hotel over uneven terrain and you've got the ultimate commando hot rod. This thing will go from zero to thirty in three seconds on anything short of snow-covered ice. It doesn't have a radio of its own, isn't equipped with GPS, it doesn't even have any gauges. The only piece of equipment more primitive is the crate it ships in."

Jack hit the ignition switch and revved the engine for good measure.

"Some guys piss and moan about the M274's lack of offensive capability, but it's not meant to be an AFV! Still; with a brave guy riding pillion you should be able to put out enough discouragement to break contact with all but the most bloodthirsty bravo kilo. The M274 is definitely the most peaceful land-based motive system in the UNSC's arsenal...I'll just let that sit with you for a while."

The Gunnery Sergeant killed the power and slipped off the quad. Close by there were what looked like the ATV's bigger cousins.

"May I introduce our Light-Reconnaissance vehicle. It has 4-inch Armor Plating; M.A.G. Bumper Suspension; a mounted machine gunner position, and total seating for three. This is the M12 LRV! We grunts like to call it the 'Warthog.' It's sort of a bear to wheel around, but that's something you gotta expect - the thing is twice the size of my granddad's car - but it's something you get used to pretty damned quick. On the battlefield speed is life and the M12 has that in spades - having a great big damn gun don't hurt, either."

Reynolds turned suddenly from where he had been playing with the mounted LAAV to stare with utter severity at a startled Great Dane's face.

"My dad had one of these…It's how he died."

Then he was right back to testing the shocks, slapping components and pointing things out of particular interest.

"I have yet to come up against an obstacle that the Warthog couldn't go right over. The CO's hate it when we ram stuff, say the 'Hog ain't indestructible. But it sure feels like it when you're plowing through a crowd of startled infantry, though." The Gunnery Sergeant laughed and leant back in the passenger seat, reminiscing, "I remember this one time some poor bastard's guts got all caught up in the axis and we ended up dragging him still alive a ways behind us, and the whole time we hear these grunts and hoots and we're pissing ourselves not knowing where it's coming from!"

Jack dissolved into uproarious laughter, slapping his knee at the image. Some of the Cornerian brass looked deeply disturbed at the story, while a timber wolf was lurking in the background chuckling darkly.

"Ahh, anyways, the 'Hog's also equipped with a Graf/Hauptman solar/saline actuator, and will convert up to twelve liters of fresh, brackish or salt water into hydrogen on the fly. Detritus is compacted on board, this allows the Warthog to travel 790 kilometers or 490 miles before it needs to be refueled. The M12's power runs off a forward-housed low-profile liquid-cooled hydrogen-injected ICE I/C plant, coupled with an infinitely variable transmission. Gear-shifting's electrical, so no need to fiddle about on the go."

Stepping out, Reynolds pointed to three separate versions of the vehicle.

"One with the cage on the back's a troop transport, standard one comes with a LAAV, and that pretty lil' Hog's got a Gauss cannon mounted on it for ruining heavy armour and everybody inside."

Leaving the M12's behind, Jack continued down the line of parked vehicles. Gesturing to a vehicle that vaguely resembled a barebones Hammerhead, he began again.

"The AV-14, also dubbed the 'Hornet,' is a vertical takeoff and landing vehicle, it's an atmospheric craft and as such cannot be deployed by orbital vessels unless a ship rated for atmospheric entry can deliver it to the battlefield. It's easier for the Hornet to be deployed from an air base located on the surface than from a ship. The AV-14 Hornet primarily serves as an attack craft, and VTOL insertion for special forces."

"What about exfil?" Miss Briggs called out from the back.

"No, negative. Sides are totally exposed to Ack Ack fire, so extraction would be a bad idea," Jack swiped at one of the side-mounted guns and moved on.

"The Hornet's armed with both anti-infantry and anti-vehicle weapon systems. It's got two anti-infantry systems optional, the first of which are two triple-barreled fire-linked rotary cannons. These are located on either side above the cockpit on the leading edges of the wing. The guns fire synchronously, and can be elevated and depressed to a small degree, without affecting the flight pattern of the Hornet. The second is a single nose mounted GUA-23 Linkless Feed Autocannon that fires .50 BMG rounds. The anti-vehicle system is composed of two Class-2 Guided Munitions Launch Systems that are mounted on the belly of the aircraft's landing skids. When triggered, each pod fires a single missile, and BAM said the lady!" Jack clapped twice, "No more mike foxtrots!"

Finally approaching a set of menacing tanks, Reynolds spread his arms wide to show off the pride and joy of the ground-pounders.

The M808B Main Battle Tank, also known as the 'Scorpion! It's an armored attack vehicle that has been in service for over thirty years, and serves as the UNSC's main anti-vehicle platform. The chassis is covered with heavy titanium-ceramic armor plating, making it incredibly resilient to small-arms fire. Its four-track nacelles design with each track mounted on an independent, computer-controlled suspension system, allow the Scorpion to traverse, climb over, or maneuver around large debris or other battlefield obstacles, and prevents the vehicle from being easily disabled. The Scorpion is equipped with two weapon systems; the 90mm High Velocity Cannon, the M808B's main weapon, fires 90mm Tungsten Armor Piercing Ballistic Capped Rounds at a high velocity, with a three-to-four-second delay between each round. The secondary weapon system is the M247T 7.62mm AP-T Medium Machine Gun, used for engaging infantry."

The Gunnery Sergeant turned back to his audience with a smile.

"I have personally witnessed one of these blow a dropship out of the sky at 2 klicks, kill off the platoon guarding it's LZ, and then be driven off a bridge to land on a gorram tango and still keep moving."

"Tank beats everything," The wolfish Admiral was rubbing his hands together, likely plotting to commission one the first chance he got.

"Right you are my scary and all creepifying-like friend."

Of additional interest were the brace of Pelicans; Dropship 77 Heavy-Troop Carrier/Infantry, abbreviated D77H-TCI. Reynolds explained how the craft could be used in both exoatmospheric and normal gravitational conditions.

He also pointed out the single remaining Longsword fighter docked in the aft cages, it's engines still open for repair.

The Gunnery Sergeant explained how the armor of the frigate was relatively poor compared to that of its larger cousins and counterparts such as the destroyer, with only 60 cm of Titanium-A battle plate; however, due to its relatively light weight, the frigate's strength lied instead in maneuverability and speed. He also mentioned that the frigate's relatively wide design was supported by structural support ribs, allowing it to perform orbital incursions.

Proceeding out of the hangar, Jack took the time to elaborate on the ship's defensive and offensive weapons systems.

"The operation principle of a MAC is the same as that of a coil gun. The cannon fires a massive metal projectile using a linear system of magnetic fields coils down a long shaft, increasing the projectile's velocity until it carries an incredible amount of kinetic energy. The ship-based models use ferric, ferrous, or depleted uranium cores, while orbital platforms and station-based versions use ferric tungsten rounds."

"Orbital Platforms?" This time General Pepper voiced his query, speaking for the first time since he had been welcomed by Miss Briggs.

"Yeah, entire satellites dedicated to hosting a Super-MAC cannon for planetary defence. We had a whole grid of them protecting Earth that could punch through the enemy's shields, rip through the hull and then still kill two ships behind that one."

The assembled researchers were jittering excitedly to each other about the concept. An entire planetary defence grid? Now that was worth looking into.

"How did you power them?" Pepper continued, stony-faced.

"Ground-based power plants transmit the juice to keep them running. Gorram station's spacious as a hotel, even with all your gear and ammo on board. The cannons fire a 3000-ton ferric-tungsten round at 120,000 kilometers per second. Shipborne MAC draw power from the ship's reactor and require a charge of the weapon's magnetic coils in order to be fired. The standard ship-mounted MAC fires a 600-ton ferric-tungsten projectile with a depleted uranium core at 30,000 meters per second."

"You memorized this?" Callie asked curiously.

Jack's face darkened, "It's a comfort knowing about the ordinance that keeps you and yours from being burned off your homeworld."

"I'm sorry if I-"

"No need miss, it's all said and done now anyway." Turning back to continue the tour, he kept speaking, "An average UNSC frigate sports one MAC system, while a standard destroyer possess two. Carriers sometimes three. A blast coming from a shipborne MAC has 58.16 kilotons of force."

Passing a row of heavy windows, the group could see the stars outside shining brightly, obscured occasionally by debris or an asteroid, the faint light of CDF ships guarding the area also visible.

"There are four 50mm point defense auto-cannons and 30 Archer missile pods with 30 shots each for engaging starfighters and other ships. Pods can also be loaded with Clarion spy drones; probes that can propel themselves through space under their own power by either remote or computer guidance. They use a variety of sensors and cameras to scan space and transmit data to any ship, platform, planet, etc. They're standard issue on most UNSC vessels; also one of the few things that can survive a Slipspace ejection with no damage as they are almost pure Titanium-A."

"Do you have any on board?" Asked one of the brass.

"Sure do; locked up behind the missile crates in the munitions subsection, white labels instead of yellow."

The Gunnery Sergeant held up a hand to his temple, remembering something.

"Ah, right. The biggest ordinance we've got on board is a Shiva Tactical Nuke. We use it for ship-to-ship warfare when heavily out-gunned. They can also be fitted on Longsword Interceptors for low-profile insertion, or remote detonation."

"How many do you have on board?"

Reynolds shrugged.

"Two, maybe. Could have been fired as we were engaging the enemy."

General Pepper rubbed his muzzle while the rest of the brass discussed reverse-engineering the warheads, "I'm more interested in this FTL system you use."

"Fraid' I won't be much help, if it's not a weapon or craft, it's not my field," The ODST admitted.

_I believe I can be of service._

The group had been forewarned of the AI, so while there was a start at the disembodied voice talking to them, no further surprise showed on the assembled faces.

_The Shaw-Fujikawa Translight Engine functions by creating ruptures, referred to in some sources as wormholes, between normal space and an alternate plane known as slipspace. The nonstandard physics of slipspace allow it to be used as a shortcut realm, facilitating interstellar travel between distant regions in reasonable time. The engine makes ruptures by using high-power cyclic particle accelerators to generate microscopic black holes. Because of their low mass, Hawking radiation gives them a lifetime of around a nanosecond before they evaporate into useless thermal energy. In that nanosecond, the engine manipulates them into forming a coherent rupture between normal space and the slipstream. A ruptured slipspace drive can create slipspace "splinters" in normal space, eventually consuming the drive and the entire ship which the drive was placed on. Mechanical failures like Slip Termination, Preventable, or STP, can also occur with Slipspace drives, usually resulting from poor maintenance. _

_One of the significant differences between Human and Covenant technologies is that of FTL travel. Although two human ships utilizing the Shaw-Fujikawa engine are suspected of having successfully executed an in-atmosphere slipspace transition, this has not been irrefutably confirmed. Another massive advantage of Covenant drives is that they travel significantly faster in slipspace than their human counterparts. Although exact velocities are difficult to measure accurately, human drives typically cover between 2-3 light-years per twenty-four hours, while Covenant ships have been known to travel more than 900 light-years in the same time._

That piece of information was priceless. Human understanding of Slipspace may have been limited, and inferior to current FTL utilizing hyperdrive, however, proper application of slipspace travel could outstrip anything the rest of the galaxy had. It could even render the Gates obsolete.

"I think we'll take a more in-depth look around the ship with HAL's assistance," Pepper replied thoroughly impressed.

"Gunnery Sergeant Jack Reynolds," The General turned to face the UNSC guide, which prompted a reflexive stand to attention, "Do you have any plans in mind for your immediate future?"

"Sir," Dr. Callie Briggs interjected neatly, "I'd intended to request the Gunnery Sergeant be given the choice of applying for citizenship."

"Is that so?"

Both Cornerians looked back to Reynolds.

"My fight's over, I've got nowhere to go as it is," Jack replied resting easy, "Two things, first."

"And they are?"

"What's happening to all of this UNSC property? There's no way I'll be taking it back home, but the thought of you conquering the galaxy with keys I handed over seems kind of grim."

General Pepper drummed his fingers on his arm, "It'll be relocated to a secure CDF facility for further study alongside the rest of this material."

"Fair enough. Second thing…" Jack scratched the back of his neck awkwardly.

"You mind if I take my own gear? Not to knock your own issue, sir, but my equipment's what I've been trained on."

There was laughter all around, and even Pepper cracked a grin.

"Load up what you need, son, and report to the QM as soon as you're squared away. We'll make arrangements for your living conditions as soon as we properly break the news to the public, and we'll be interested in having you stay onboard as it were to consult on the subject of your dimension's equipment and training."

A change of pace might be nice.

"Aye sir," He looked up into empty space, "HAL? It's been a pleasure."

_Likewise, Jack._

* * *

After some debate, the Cornerian High Command settled on a cover story for the existence of Reynolds and the technology gleaned from the Aegis Fate. The official explanation would be that he was a sole survivor of an FTL accident that intersected with a local experiment, as the alternate dimension concept was deemed dangerous lest it inspire others to attempt similar research. It was, after all, a black project to begin with. The fact the story was slightly based in truth lent it credence, and while the Lylat has had some contact with alien races similar to themselves within the galaxy, Reynolds was not expected to face any serious stigma.

"Good Evening, you're watching CTV News at 8. I'm your host, Miranda Minx."

On the set of a primetime news network, a pure white female minx in a navy blue office casual getup brushed her long blonde hair out of her eyes in a trademark gesture, and shuffled the papers on her desk. General Pepper had organized a press release, and authorized the Human's first appearance to be formally televised as the story was simultaneously broken across other media.

"Our top story tonight is the previously unexplained lockdown of the Fairchild Science Station, which has been reported to have suffered a catastrophic mishap during a Hyperdrive experiment."

On the screen behind Miss Minx, an image of the station and blurry satellite footage of the experiment going off were featured.

"During one of the tests, a starship belonging to a totally new alien race was inadvertly pulled out of FTL transit and stranded. Cornerian Defence Force troops boarded the damaged vessel and rescued the sole survivor, who with permissions from the CDF and local government has been permitted to appear on tonight's show."

Despite being an incredibly difficult story to handle, the woman did not exhibit an eyelash out of order as she turned to wave in her guest.

"Please welcome Gunnery Sergeant Jack Reynolds."

As thousands of Cornerians across the planet and neighboring system leaned towards their holoscreens, the sight of a tall, vaguely-simian male strode out from the curtained sidelines of the cameras, walking in the stiff, measured gait common to military personnel. He shook hands with the female host, and took a seat facing the cameras at an angle.

He was wearing a black dress uniform of unknown design, and removed what had been a black beret with a silver pin from his head, revealing the only hair visible to be a dark brown, parted to one side. Severe brown eyes regarded the minx across from him, and he sat with his hands folded in his lap over the headwear. The breech in dress protocol had been suggested to give the public a better look at his features as a precaution.

"It's wonderful to have you with us tonight," Miranda smiled winningly at the totally foreign being sitting a scant few feet away from her.

"Thank you, it's my pleasure to be here."

"So tell us a little about yourself. You were reported to have been injured when the recovery team found you, what exactly happened?"

Reynolds was calm, reciting the official story the higher ups had agreed on in a measured, even tone.

"The ship I was on was returning from a peacekeeping mission among our own territories, when we suffered complications during FTL that resulted in several hull breeches. Lacking the necessary crew to effect repairs I was forced to climb into a cryogenic stasis pod and await rescue."

"Cryogenics?"

"It's a sort of deep freeze used to suspend living crew over long periods of space travel," Reynolds explained, "During the wait the ship had apparently travelled much farther than thought possible, when it was picked up by the Fairchild Station's experiment.

"How so?"

"I'm afraid I don't grasp the specifics myself, but what I've been told is that the tests 'caught' my ship while it was going blindly through warp travel and disengaged it to real space."

"Where were you coming from exactly? How far away is your home?"

"It was a colony world where we were ordered to suppress pirate attacks on the local populace. As for where I come from and it's relation to Lylat, I'm afraid that's impossible to answer at this time. Comparison of our star charts has been inconclusive, and the best the experts have been able to determine is that my ship had drifted from beyond the galactic rim."

"How awful, so there's no way of getting you back?"

"I'm told the odds are one in somewhere around the billion digits," He replied with a patient grin.

"I'm sorry to hear that."

"I'm not, I had outstanding bar tabs anyway."

There was some polite laughter from the crew, and then the interview resumed on a casual tone.

"So your species is, 'Human,' correct?"

"That's right."

"Could you tell us a bit in general?"

"Well after examination by some of your medics, it's been proven that we're biologically similar to an effect of 95%. One of the unusual things is that where I come from my species was the only one to evolve to such a point, whereas all the canines, reptiles and avians in our galaxy remained feral."

"Are you serious?"

"Yes. It's a little strange for me, looking around and seeing you all walking upright."

"You must be overwhelmed with everything that's happened in the past few weeks."

"It's been unusual, surely, but the staff at CDF HQ have been very patient and helpful. The treatment I received for my injuries was excellent."

"What was your galaxy like, may I ask?"

There was a brief flicker in Reynold's eyes, but only the host and camera crew were quick enough to catch it.

"We were of a lower tech level than Lylat currently is, although our colonization was more widespread. Generally there isn't much we have to offer that isn't more efficient or advanced in this galaxy already, although we do have several technologies and inventions that don't exist here, which are being adapted by the government as we speak for non-profit disclosure."

"Any examples?"

"The previously mentioned Cryo Systems, and several medical breakthroughs which can be applied given time. There is no significant military applications to offer, due to them being obsolete here, so the Lylat at large can rest easy knowing that Corneria isn't hoarding a weapons arsenal over their heads."

"You were a soldier for your government, correct?"

Reynolds straightened a spark of the Helljumper pride now in his expression.

"That's correct. I was a Gunnery Sergeant, an equivalent of a non commissioned rank here in the CDF. I was part of the United Nations Space Command, or UNSC of my galaxy, in the special forces branch."

"What was your role?"

"I was an Orbital Drop Shock Trooper, trained to be deployed from orbit over enemy-held territory in a single-person pod. We were used to secure heavily defended targets where conventional landings could not be safely made, and unconventional warfare involving deep reconnaissance, sabotage, direct action and as force multipliers."

"You were fired from _space?_" Despite her professionalism, Minerva could not keep the incredulity out of her voice.

"That's right. It was a highly dangerous method of insertion meant to avoid anti-aircraft fire and put us behind enemy lines. While I've been told the CDF has marines trained in dropship action, there's no real equivalent for my unit."

"Sounds exciting alright. Moving on, how does your culture compare to that of Corneria, and what are your plans for the future?"

The trooper paused and gave it some thought.

"Our people are similar enough. We had a great many subcultures and nationalities that lived together but the essential structure is largely like that in Lylat; Marriage, employment, industry, behaviour…There are some differences of course, but on the whole I'd say your people are better off."

"What makes you say that?"

"Well your efforts to preserve your ecosystems and terraforming are much cleaner than anything my people accomplished; even your heavy industry doesn't irrevocably harm your planets. There's also the fact that your people are largely more peaceful than my own, with the exception of the recent crisis' that I've been informed of."

"Are humans naturally more violent?"

"Not as a whole, no. You have to understand, while you have laser-based weaponry and considerable focus on space combat, most of my people's conflicts were planet-side with kinetic weapons, resulting in much more widespread trauma."

"As for the future, I've been asked to continue working with the Cornerian government as a consultant for Human technology, and the CDF has expressed interest in having me share some of what I've been taught in their battle school. While the papers are still being drawn up, I've accepted an offer of citizenship gratefully, and in a short while I'll be just another taxpayer."

"Well that's wonderful news, I'm sure we're all looking forward to learning about your people. Unfortunately that's all the time we have, but I want to thank you once more for coming on the show tonight."

"Thank you for having me."

The shook hands once more and smiled for the cameras as the program faded out and millions across the system began to talk amongst themselves.

* * *

In the following week, Jack was given an apartment on the CDF academy grounds, usually reserved for military personnel and their families. Due to the fact his room was across from Miss Briggs' she was drafted into helping him move in, as she had more or less adopted the unofficial 'tour guide' role for the human trooper.

From the Aegis Fate, Jack had taken his duffle bags containing spare ODST uniforms and kit, as well as his combat armor in a lockbox. Absolutions kit, Dress Blacks and his personal effects which amounted to several books and a leather jacket he'd been given when he was roped into the Longsword program.

Callie was helpful in guiding him around the downtown, despite his being gawked at initially, and got his apartment stocked with the bare essentials which were really several degrees more luxurious than anything he'd ever used as a grunt. As for clothing, while he put up a token resistance to her picking out what she said was 'fashionable' on Corneria, Jack caught himself enjoying the 'everyday' errands.

His days were usually filled with speaking to anthropologists and researchers as they recorded as much as they could about Humanity and the associated technology. They even brought in xeno-archaeologists to study the aspects of the Aegis Fate and Reynolds, who were thrilled to have a live specimen of an unknown race.

Jack became acquainted with several of the CDF Academy's staff, including a bulldog Bill Grey who used to lead a fighter squadron and now trained new pilots for the Navy, and a fennec Fara Phoenix who was the daughter of the head of Space Dynamics, a major supplier to the Cornerian Army. The latter of which had been asking him for some time to consult over a line of weaponry incorporating human design with a laser medium.

"Here are the issues outlined that I wanted to talk over," Reynolds said as he and the fennec were overlooking a holotable with proposed designs loaded onto it.

"I've removed 20% of the frame from the basic Machine Gun, with the exception of reinforcement around the critical parts of the receiver; saving weight from the soldier without compromising the integrity of the weapon."

The image of the rifle was stripped of it's usual profile, looking more like a long, angular box formation with a grip and protruding battery pack. The casing was uniformly black/gunmetal grey, with the glow of exposed focal lense a bright yellow.

The vulpine nodded, her large ears twitching as she looked over the glow of the blue lights.

"Interesting, I've seen some similar suggestions before."

"Right. Moving on I recommend a light, collapsible stock simply so the operator can secure and orient the weapon. While the recoil is non-existent for this medium, in a static position it's easier to aim the weapon properly without having to re-acquire the sights on target, floating up there in their grip. I also lowered the irons and suggested the battery well to be in front of the trigger guard for more natural reloads. There's three separate barrel lengths that function off a modular mounting system, so the soldier can switch them out for mission-specific needs."

"We'll see about getting some prototypes pumped out, what about this one?"

A modified image of a Space Dynamics L2 Blaster appeared, mimicking the M6C/SOCOM that the ODST carried previously.

"Based off our own combat philosophy, this version of the L2 keeps the same underslung Laser/Light Aiming Module(LAM) that the series has, while the barrel has been extended with an inhibitor to focus the bolts into the infra-red spectrum to avoid visual detection, and a cyclic modifier to suppress the sound of it's function; Should be much quieter, perfect for the spec ops."

Fara was very keen on some aspects of the Human designs, and her tail got a touch more frizzled behind her as she poured over the image of the alien's input.

"I really like the look of this one, I think we'll have a real breakthrough on the market. Show me the others, Jack."

They went over additional small arms innovations adopted from UNSC weaponry. Reynolds uniformly abhorred the colorful variety of the usual Space Dynamics firearms, citing a dulled finish and color was important to camouflage the soldier and hide them from sight. While active camouflage did exist, machines break, after all.

Proposed changes included a bipod attachment to the 'Oracle' Sniper Rifle series and an inhibitor to hide the contrail of laser residue that gave away a shooter's position, adaptations of the M7S SMG, M90 CAWS Shotgun, M6 Grindell/Galillean Nonlinear Rifle and the concept of Flashbang Grenades.

Most of the shipbourne weaponry was being thought over by the Navy, with proposed plans to begin construction on an orbital defence grid similar to what had been on Earth and Reach. The 'dumb' artificial intelligence HAL was most helpful in that regard, but Jack no longer had any need for contact with that department. He was happier on the ground.

"Well that's enough for now anyway," Fara closed the display program and stretched her tired back, "Wanna go grab a drink?"

The human nodded and walked with her out of the lab, slipping on his Longsword flight jacket over his new civvie clothes.

"Bill gets off now, doesn't he?"

"Yep, let's go pick up the old hound."

The fennec cheerfully waved at a familiar face leaving a classroom, and the pair were joined by the tough ex-captain wearing an easy smile.

"Hey gang, hope I didn't keep you waiting."

"How were the cadets?"

"Aw you know. Pups."

They walked together from the Academy, meeting Callie at the front desk, enjoying the summer weather of the downtown metropolis. Skyscrapers fashioned out of brilliant white and blue color schemes cut a crisp and cosmopolitan look. Hovercrafts combed the streets and everywhere you looked there were glowing lights and holographic adverts. Somehow the surrounding nature seemed to complement the clean look of the city, with grassy lawns incorporated alongside walkways and the distant mountains surrounded by forests.

There was such a sheer madness in the variety of species in the crowds, that even Jack escaped most cursory glances. Rabbits, Hyenas, Tigers, Bears, and what must have been a _Dragon_ roamed the city dressed in a hodgepodge of styles and flair. The ODST burst into laughter when a little swan chick pointed over her mother's shoulder at him and said 'Ayweeum!'

The bar that they frequented was a cozy joint called Bandicoot's, with the décor reflecting the classic 10 BLW(Before Lylat War) years. They took their seats at the counter and a grizzled raccoon walked over to serve them.

"Evening."

"Hey Cooper, could we get a round of Katinan Stout?" Bill slid a credit chit over the countertop which was palmed by the ringtail.

"Sure thing."

Jack picked up his own frosty glass of amber and took a moment to relax as he knocked back the pleasant beer. His nerves had been winding down for some time now, with the human/covvie war finished and the spectre of annihilation looming over his head gone as well.

"What's on your mind?" Callie nudged his elbow, drawing the human's attention to the bespectacled cat.

"Nothin' too important."

He took a moment longer than necessary to admire the green of her eyes before looking up at the holoscreen above the bar.

"So what do you think's going to happen with the Remnant forces?"

The calico sighed and took a sip herself.

"Probably going to regroup and hit us again within the year, the lack of terraformed planets on the rim is really pushing the hardline Andross supporters."

Bill looked over and chimed in, "Heard tell that Oikonny was confirmed alive back on Venom, apparently they're working on something big but none of our sources can follow the trails."

Fara's ears twitched, "There's been a massive amount of outgoing shipments from the neutral territory refineries, even with all the smoke and mirrors of putting them through fake buyers and cargo manifests. They're up to something all right."

"Why not pull an assassination on the ape? If he's a figurehead it'll slow them down at least," Jack drained his mug and motioned for another.

"Well pal, you wanna drop into a poisonous wasteland all alone and no way out with a rifle be my guest."

"Hey, it wouldn't be the first time."

"Last I heard my old buddy McCloud was hired to take a look around Eladard, something to do with activity coming from Andross's old shipyards based there."

"He's the head of that Merc outfit, right?"

"The _Star Fox_ team? 'Course he is! They're just about the best pilots the Lylat's ever had!"

"Oh boy, here we go again…" The rusty fennec rolled her eyes and took a swill from her glass.

"Oh c'mon Fara…"

"_No_ Bill."

Jack glanced over at Callie.

"Is this a…personal thing?"

Callie nodded uncomfortably, "Fara and McCloud used to date, and Bill's been friends with him since the academy."

"Ah…haha, glad I'm not involved in this mess." Reynolds quirked his mouth and took another sip as Fara reached around Bill and smacked him on the back of the head lightly.

"And you'll stay out of it human!"

"_Uh oh!_" "_Uh oh!_"

The men shared a knowing giggle at Fara's sensitivity on the issue, resulting in another smack from both the fennec and the calico cat opposite her.

"I keep asking myself why we put up with this abuse…"

Callie stuck her tongue out at him and winked behind her glasses, prompting another grin from the trooper.

"I can't imagine pal, no idea…"

The group conveniently didn't notice the unspoken messages the fennec and bulldog sent each other, but that was the sort of thing friends did when something was known but not mentioned.

The hour passed by quickly, as they exchanged stories over drinks. Callie went over her previous experiences as a deputy mayor that had them all in stitches, and Fara recounted some of the embarrassing moments out of high school that featured the famous Star Fox team before they were the legends they were at the present. Bill shared some of the hijinks that went on in Huskey Squadron, like filling one of the new guy's cockpit with scratch and sniff stickers till he went mad with OCD.

"Alright Jack, your turn."

Reynolds felt his eyebrows raise as he regarded Fara over the lip of his (sixth? seventh?) mug.

"I dunno, some of mine aren't exactly appr-"

"Oh just say it you puss." Callie nudged him a little more roughly than she should have, tipsy as she was.

The human turned, suddenly finding her face only a few inches from his.

"Ohhh…now what was that _pussycat?_" He asked with a mocking smile, watching her bite her lip and scowl jokingly just as close to him.

"Hey hey you two, no flirting while we're in spitting distance," Bill called out, breaking the pair out of their staring match.

"Ha_ha_. Piss off bulldog." Jack took another sip and set down his glass."

"Alright, fine. When I was roped into flying briefly, we had what was called a 'gripe sheet' to tell mechanics about problems we experienced with the spacecraft so they could effect repairs. Now, due to the nature of us not being properly trained, half the shit we wrote down didn't make sense, and the mechanics responded in kind. For example:"

"Report: Left inside tire almost needs replacement. Answer: Left inside tire almost replaced."

"R: Test flight OK, but auto-land very rough. A: Auto-land not installed on this spacecraft."

"R: Something loose in cockpit. A: Something tightened in cockpit."

"R: Dead bugs on windshield. A: Live bugs on back-order."

"R: Evidence of fuel leak on right landing strut. A: Evidence removed."

"R: Friction lock causes throttle levers to stick. A: That's what friction locks are for."

"R: IFF inoperable in OFF mode. A: IFF is always inoperable when turned OFF."

"R: Suspect crack in windshield. A: Suspect you're right."

"R: Number 3 engine missing. A: Number 3 engine located on left wing after brief search."

"R: Noise coming from under instrument panel sounds like a midget pounding on something with a hammer. A: Took hammer away from midget."

Jack drained his glass as the animals around him wiped tears from their eyes laughing so hard. Everyone had more or less finished, so they paid their tabs and waved the bartender goodnight.

Fara and Bill split ways from them once they reached the base, giggling the whole time. Callie steadied herself by wrapping her arm through Jack's as they walked back to their apartments.

"This is my stop," the cat skipped over to her door and brought out her key cards in a jangly mess, chuckling as she fought to unlock it properly.

"You good?" Jack paused, leaning out of his already-open door across from her.

Miss Briggs stuck her tongue out at him and happened to sway her hips slightly more than necessary when she slipped through her entrance, her tail deliberately smacking him in the face.

"Oh I'm better than good, kitten. Nighty-night~"

The ODST stared at the closed door a second longer, before shaking his head and closing his own.

"Women."

He had stripped off his jacket and begun unbuckling his belt when he noticed the message light blinking on his home's comm answering machine.

His body flooded with adrenaline, even as the familiar weight settled in his gut.

He picked up the receiver and put it to his ear, pressing the messages control.

"_Reynolds? I'm calling on behalf of General Pepper's war council. You're needed at the CDF HQ at your earliest convenience; The Venomian Remnants are planning a strike on Corneria within a week."_


	3. Chapter 3

The briefing room in the CDF was meant to accommodate hundreds of animals. Naturally, as the epicenter of the armed forces in the capital city the complex was meant for orientation concerning major military action, and had been the staging area for the Lylat War and Aparoid campaigns. Now, only a small group of less than a dozen animals were in the spacious chamber, seated in front of a dimmed projector screen.

"This is lame."

The speaker was a Lynx in her early 20's, seated next to a white Cocker Spaniel adjusting a red ribbon in her hair for the nth time that morning. They were garbed in green flight suits and beige flight jackets, with a red kerchief at their necks.

"You said it. Man I hate waiting around doing nothing…"

A blue avian was just behind the pair, propping his legs up over an empty seat in front of him. Wearing a similar getup with the exception of a faded racer's jumpsuit, he lolled his head from side to side irritably; counting the ceiling tiles as he slowly went bonkers.

A short frog was humming quietly as he reviewed a schematic on his armband suite, looking up at the complaint, "You could've stayed on the ship Falco." He has an almost nasally high-pitched voice, and was wearing a faded, filthy yellow mechanic's jumpsuit under his jacket.

"Pipe down you two, this is important. The General wouldn't have called us out here if it wasn't a big job, and we certainly need it," An aged hare with a yellow kerchief was rubbing at the lens of a pair of spectacles, replacing them on the bridge of his short muzzle. Next to him a blue fox in a furtight combat suit and beige jacket idly tapped her foot as they waited for the briefing to begin.

"He's late again," She said with a noticeable accent.

"Foxy's always late Krys," the lynx growled from the next row. The spaniel next to her perked up and looked to the doors.

"Here he comes, uncle's got him."

A red fox, in an outdated green flight suit and slightly frayed beige pilot's jacket walked next to the head of the Cornerian military, General Pepper. The unmistakable close-shorn headfur and recent addition of his late father's sunglasses marked him as none other than Fox McCloud, the leader of the renowned mercenary squadron. He shook hands with the old hound and ambled back over to where the rest of his team was seated, pausing next to the vixen to kiss the side of her muzzle.

"Hope I didn't miss anything."

"Just Krys admitting she was leaving you for me."

"Ah, great. Let me know how that works out, Miyu."

The group shared a chuckle before the lights dimmed further; illuminated on stage was General Pepper, who coughed once to get their attention.

"Thank you for showing up on such short notice Star Fox, this one is going to be tricky even with _you_ on board."

A three dimensional image was brought up, displaying the Lylat System as a whole. Planets and space stations were dotted across the territories, and rings displayed orbit trajectories.

"We have received classified intel that the remains of Andross's forces are planning to deploy IPBMs(Inter Planetary Ballistic Missile) from several locations across hostile space. While transport and fuelling of these powerful weapons will take some time, our best estimates have worked out that they will be ready to launch within 6 standard days at best."

The mood of the animals present took a turn for the serious, IPBMs were a throwback to the pre-colonial days in which many of the Lylat's races waged planetary wars with nuclear ordinance. While the galaxy at large had prohibited their use and construction, Andross had evidently invested some time in developing them while he had been alive.

"What's the plan, General?" McCloud was all business when it came down to taking out Venomian forces. The projector screen cycled through diagrams and readouts of the IPBMs, listing the schematics of the 200 meter devices and their unstable dark matter fuel sources.

"The CDF will deploy a defensive net around our territories, with the intent of shooting down any missiles that come within range. However, due to the strain on our forces and priority tasking, we cannot possibly defend all of the Lylat from the projected number of IPBMs that the remenant forces are believed to possess. In addition, spies have indicated that they will most likely make an offensive blitz when the missiles are launched, to overwhelm our forces."

The old hound in the red officer's uniform paused as he let that information sink in and continued.

"Your mission, is to hunt down the bases from which these weapons are going to be assembled and launched, and destroy them. In addition, we have reason to believe Oikonny has withdrawn to an old secret base that was never fully completed during the Lylat War. While the location at this time is unknown, sources have listed this central HQ for the Remnant forces as being called 'Astropolis.' Your secondary objective is to find this installation and destroy it as well, and capture or kill Andrew Oikonny once and for all."

"Bout' time, that scumbag's been getting on my nerves for _years._"

Falco had withdrawn his crossed legs from the chair in front, and sat up straight with a gleam in his eye. High stakes thrill rides like these were what he lived for.

Peppy was painfully aware of the parallels the crisis had to the previous war with Andross. "It's certainly no laughing matter, but this whole thing seems a bit too complicated for something Andrew could cook up, even with veterans advising him."

"You may be right, he's never shown this sort of initiative or strategy before," Fox chimed in.

"So…if we're hunting down these bases, are we going to be bombing them or flying in with our arwings?" Slippy asked as he peeked up over Peppy's shoulder.

Pepper shook his head, "That's what my next point will cover. The bases are believed to be converted fallout shelters, meaning they are reinforced to prevent all but the most dedicated orbital bombardments. While there is a central pipeline large enough to accommodate an arwing that can reach the reactor cores, we need to retrieve intel on the Remnant operations during the course of this mission. Due to their conversion into missile launch facilities, there are a number of entrances that have been installed for personnel to maintain and repair the fuel lines and Launchpad facility, although these are heavily guarded by fortified bunkers. The only way to get in without closing them off is by foot."

"On foot through _that_ kind of firepower? You'd have to have a real set of stones to even think about it. I mean, we can handle blasters alright, but we're pilots sir." Miyu's ears twitched as she looked derisively at the unwelcoming image of a fortified bunker being displayed.

"Without any leads on the location of Oikonny's base Astropolis, we are left wide open to whatever counter attack he tried to make. Furthermore our forces will be scattered across the held system and at their most vulnerable if we simply bomb all the suspected sites and gather no leads on Astropolis."

"Um, how exactly are we going to get into that kind of bunker, uncle pep?" The white spaniel Fay was a distant niece of the General, and although work had largely kept him absent from her life she affectionately referred to him as her 'uncle.'

"We have arranged for a specialist to temporarily be assigned to your team."

On the screen behind the General, a portrait of the human that had most recently been the most talked-about subject in the science community was pulled up, alongside a listing of profile information.

"Specialist Jack Reynolds, currently attached to the CDF as a contract consultant."

The team was surprised to say the least.

"We're getting the _alien?_" Falco's eyebrows rose in disbelief, "Can that thing even fly?"

"_Falco!_" Fay nudged him with her elbow, slightly scandalized at him speaking like that in front of her uncle.

"What? What'd I do?"

"Pipe down you two," Peppy leaned forward and looked the old hound in the eye, "You sure he's up for this kind of thing Rex?" The grizzled veteran side of the old hare was really showing, _nobody_ called Pepper by his first name anymore.

The canine in question nodded solemnly.

"We have had to censor and classify almost everything surrounding him, for fear of the Venomians getting an edge over us, however the human in question is quite possibly the most dangerous and _experienced_ soldier in this system alive."

"Doesn't look that scary…" Miyu thought aloud.

"We haven't let this be publicly known for a number of reasons, but since you'll be working together on this mission, we've decided to clue you in. Naturally the following information is classified Top Secret with a caveat "Dragon X-ray."

The screen switched to helmet cam footage of Reynolds being deployed from orbit above Jericho VII. The audible counter sounded off as the view of the pod he was in shifted, and then shook wildly as the trooper was fired directly into the atmosphere.

"He's been trained as a special forces asset, primarily in being inserted via orbital drop, hence the moniker Orbital Drop Shock Trooper. The R&D department has been reviewing the design of the drop pod his species used, and are planning on introducing a larger, safer method for our own infantry to utilize in the future. However, for the purpose of this mission we have converted a missile tube system into a prototype launch chute that can be fitted on the Great Fox. Single-use pods would be swapped out as he is deployed to infiltrate the command bunkers and retrieve intelligence while the assault operation with your arwings is underway."

The view was blurred as the pod impacted and the canopy was blown off by explosive pins, and Reynolds leapt out firing. He was in some sort of battleground, and almost saturated in hostile aliens as bizzare creatures hooted and roared, firing bright splashes of superheated plasma. A fellow trooper off a couple meters in the distance went down as a flurry of bolts hit him center mass and killed him. The animals present watched silently as Reynolds fought his way through forces that outnumbered him, outgunned him, and in most cases were nearly _twice_ his size. A freakishly large ape-thing screamed as he dove out of the way of some kind of giant power hammer and blasted a trio of shotgun shells point-blank.

"He's good." Fox said, eyes riveted on the action. The blue vixen next to him frowned slightly, watching the violence.

"How…long has he been a soldier?"

The General brought up an additional file listing the soldier's CV.

"He enlisted at the age of 16, which was technically illegal on his world, though overlooked due to the threat of genocide they were facing at the time. As of his arrival in Lylat he has been fighting for over 12 years of continuous warfare. He has a record of undertaking more than 800 combat drops, 8,899 confirmed enemy kills and previous experience being drafted into an emergency role as a combat pilot on a Bomber/Interceptor craft, although his skill at piloting is scraping the bare minimum."

Other clips were shown, helmet cam footage from Reynolds depicting ship-to-ship boarding operations and smooth, iridescent interiors of purple alien vessels, as well as urban fighting alongside other humans garbed in different armor and exposed skin, apparently evacuating civilians. A gruesome image in the background of bodies alien, military and civilian alike caused some measure of unease among the animals present.

"Good grief…all those poor people…" Slippy's eyes were even wider if possible, and for once neither Falco nor Miyu chipped in with a snarky comment.

"We did not release this information to the public, but Reynold's species were not undertaking peacekeeping missions at all. They were defending themselves from a technologically superior race that was driven to exterminate them. The war took place over 27 years, resulting in almost all of humanity's held planets being rendered uninhabitable by strategic orbital plasma bombardment, and an estimated 23 Billion civilian and military casualties."

The temperature seemed to drop in the room, and fur stood on end at the unthinkable monstrosity of such numbers killed. Krystal reached over and held Fox's hand tightly, her own memories of her planet Cernia being wiped of all life by Andross painfully clear.

"In short, Reynolds is a veteran of a conflict so violent and bloody that his experience as a front-line infantry soldier is invaluable to us, there is literally no one else like him in the galaxy. Furthermore, what psychological tests we have been able to conduct with him have proven that despite mental trauma over a lifetime of war, he is fully willing and capable of carrying out this mission alongside the CDF. I will, however, leave the final decision up to you, Fox."

McCloud rubbed his thumb over the back of Krystal's hand wrapped in his own, thinking over the issue silently. He looked up to meet Falco's gaze, who merely nodded, and Slippy and Peppy who mirrored the approval. Fay and Miyu also gave their own blessing, and he finally turned to meet the eyes of the vixen next to him.

The telepath stared at the image of the tired, battle-worn human's portrait a moment longer, and then nodded at the vulpine next to her. Fox intrinsically trusted Krystal as a judge of character, and looked up to General Pepper who was awaiting his verdict.

"We'll take him. We can use all the help we can get putting down Oikonny once and for all."

The General smiled, and tapped a control on his podium, bringing up some logistical data concerning the upcoming offensive.

"Very good. We will be forwarding an advance payment of 200,000cr for service, and you will be cleared to land at CDFB Kittyhawk to fuel and rearm the Great Fox and your Arwings for the upcoming campaign. Specialist Jack Reynolds will join you there, along with small arms and ammunition allocated for the mission and the modified drop pod system to be installed temporarily on the Great Fox. Are there any questions?"

Slippy raised his hand, "What kinda hardware is he bringing?"

"His combat hardsuit has been repaired and upgraded with shields, it will run off the same batteries your deflector barriers do. A shipment of prototype small arms weaponry is also being donated by Space Dynamics for trial purposes, most of which the human has qualified on."

"So the idea is we blow up the missile base reactors while this guy drops in uninvited and takes the bad guy's secret files, huh? What about when we track down that creep Oikonny?"

"Capture if possible but take him down if necessary."

"Eh, so it's blow him to smithereens then," Falco crossed his arms and laid back.

The screen went black, and the lights returned to their normal setting as the Star Fox team rose from their seats in the auditorium.

"Consider it done General," McCloud slipped his father's shades on and smiled encouragingly at his long-time friends, "Let's make it happen, team."

* * *

The transit from Corneria City to the neighboring CDFB(Cornerian Defence Force Base) Kittyhawk was short, and the slow descent to park the Great Fox in atmosphere was carefully handled by Rob64's practiced hands.

On the tarmac of the busy flight deck, technicians began the process of connecting the Great Fox reactor to a dark matter fuelling tank, supplying the power source with a much needed refill after it's hasty reconstruction following the loss of the initial dreadnought in the assault on the Aparoid homeworld.

The nearby hanger safely contained the six arwings of the team, instrument panels open as the maintenance crews gave them a professional checkup. The four Arwing II space superiority fighters were the same ones that the team flew during the Aparoid campaign, though Miyu and Fay's craft were the older generation Arwing Interceptor models that had been discontinued during the Lylat War. Their original design was meant for flying fast enough to 'intercept' missile carriers and attack groups that threaten their carrier vessel, although with the advance of point defence systems and adoption of the Viper Mk II as the CDF's staple starfighter, Space Dynamics halted production of the Interceptor class.

As the team went over the repair and rearmament of their fighters, they looked up collectively as an unusual vehicle was waved into the hanger by the security checkpoint at the door.

It was a quad-wheeled green transport, armored for combat and with a large Plasma Cannon that had been jury-rigged onto a tripod on the rear. It was towing a trailer loaded with the components of what had to be the drop pod system to be installed in one of the Great Fox's missile tubes, and had a number of polymer weapons crates and battery packs loaded on whatever space remained; and in the driver's seat was the alien.

He was wearing black BDUs and a simple black shirt with the name REYNOLDS stenciled over the left of his chest and an unknown emblem on the right. A black beret with a silver pin was snug on his head, removed and stowed in a leg pocket casually. His face matched the portrait, brown hair parted and height just a hair over McCloud's own. He was muscular, but not overly so, faded scars etched in an off-white on his bare arms. The eyes though, steady and reserved, spoke volumes that his CV could not.

He was dangerous, alright.

"Captain McCloud?" The human saluted as he approached the animals gathered together, stopping respectfully short. Fox returned the salute and shook the furless hand politely.

"That's right, you must be our specialist."

"Spc Jack Reynolds, former ODST at your service." He looked around briefly at the assembled crew before addressing McCloud again, "I hope I'm not treading on anyone's toes by being here. I know what it's like having an unwelcome FNG dumped on a squad."

"I wouldn't worry about it, as long as you abide by our rules on our ship," the vulpine looked him straight in the eye, because even with the General's recommendation, his team came first.

"Understood sir."

"Hey now, you don't have to call me sir, we're an independent unit," Fox sheepishly scratched the back of his head at the unusual title, even as Falco scoffed.

"Yeah man, ditch the army regs, that stuff gets lame _fast_."

Fox gestured to the blue avian, beginning his intro to the trooper.

"This is Falco Lombardi, our top pilot alongside me."

"Yeah right, more like _ahead of_."

"This is Peppy Hare and Slippy Toad. Peppy's retired from flight duty now, but he sticks with us running navigation and the Great Fox's combat suite. Slippy's the resident engineer, and he's on the flight line as well."

The hare and toad in question waved to Jack, and the feline and canine pair stepped up to say hello.

"I'm Miyu Lynx, nice to meet'cha," she had a sassy grin and was the first aside from McCloud to step up and shake hands with the unique alien. "This is Fay Spaniel, we've been friends since flight school and the CDF squadron we flew in before joining Star Fox."

The white canine nodded, her floppy ears swaying slightly as she greeted Jack quietly.

"Hello."

The last member, a blue vulpine, stepped up from beside Fox and introduced herself.

"Pleasure to meet you, I'm Krystal, pilot and the team's telepath."

Jack stared flatly at the woman. "…What."

"I understand you might be confused, all it means is I'm able to read thought patterns and skim surface memories with some concentration."

"It's true," Peppy spoke up, "Krystal's gotten us out of a number of hairy situations with her ESP(Extra Sensory Perception)."

Jack rubbed his eyes, "I wish I could say that's the strangest thing I've ever heard, but after the past few months it's really not."

Slippy had migrated over to the drop pod system still covered mostly by a grey tarp.

"So this is the atmospheric entry pod, huh? It sure is smaller than I thought it'd be."

Jack turned and nodded to the squat amphibian, "It's almost a direct adaptation of our SOEIV(Single Occupant Exoatmospheric Insertion Vehicle), with a few improvements by the R&D team in Corneria City. Still heats up and rattles something fierce, but it gets the job done."

"You must have a real pair on you to climb into that deathtrap," Miyu said peeking into the cramped pod with an eyebrow raised.

"They also get the job done," he replied with a smirk which the Lynx returned with her tongue stuck out at him.

"Sure pal."

"So what are you bringing along?" McCloud stepped up to the side of the vehicle, looking over the designations stamped on the Space Dynamics weapons cases.

Reynolds climbed back up onto the transport and began pointing out some of the gear.

"My armor's stowed in that one, Laser Carbines in this one, Pistols here, battery packs all stacked up and wrapped in the back… Two prototype Oracle Snipers and Rockets here, and a couple others that might come in handy."

Fox furrowed his brow, reading the 'X' designation on most of the weapon cases that signified the experimental or prototype model of Cornerian small arms.

"This is some pretty cutting-edge hardware, how exactly did you manage to get Space Dynamics to agree to give them to you before production runs?"

"Because he's field testing them for us," came a new voice.

The group turned to find Fara Phoenix, daughter of the head of SD and one of it's lead developers striding over to them in a stained lab coat and a stormy expression.

"Ah."

It's funny how an entire story can be told in a single word, and how it's said. McCloud's uncomfortable utterance spelled out the very personal and clearly _complicated_ history that must have involved the newly arrived Miss Phoenix.

Jack slowly sat down on the other side of the vehicle after waving hello to Fara.

"I am so _very_ glad this is not my problem."

Falco joined him, sprawling out on the floor next to a wheel and closing his eyes to nap.

"Amen."

Miyu, Fay, Slippy and Peppy all inched off to attend to their own preparations while the sordid drama played itself out. Fox placed himself between Fara and Krystal, scratching the back of his head again in a nervous tic.

"How've you been Fara?"

"Save it McCloud. I'm here to sign off the prototype lines for testing on your little mission and then I'm out of here."

"Look, I know the whole homecoming thing ended badly but-"

"Oh for-_You left me there!_ Hightailed it out with your little buddies to fight Andross and not even a _courtesy_ holovid to give me the news? You break up with me over a _text message_?"

Krystal was clearly uncomfortable with the newcomer and Fox's dirty laundry being aired in public while she played third wheel, "Erm, Fox…who is this?"

"Oh, is she another floozy you duped into following you around?"

"_Floozy?!"_

Two enraged vulpine women were now clamouring to get at each other as McCloud stood in the middle, keeping them at arm's length while avoiding their swiping claws.

"Just what gives you the right-"

"Oh I bet he goes _on_ and _on _about your fur like he did my ears!"

"At least I keep my fur groomed you little harlot!"

"I'll show you grooming you telepathic twat!"

As the sounds of bestial savagery and male whimpering reached a crescendo, the CDF mechanics all rolled their eyes and continued with the pre-flight routine. Why did the weirdos always end up on their shift?

* * *

Eventually the two ladies had calmed down and gone their separate ways, Krystal with a frizzled tail and cross look at Fox, and Fara with her ears twitching angrily as she stormed off to find Bill for therapeutic snuggling.

Installing the drop pod tube took the better part of the day with Jack, Slippy and the technicians occupied. Afterwards the human unloaded all of the small arms into the armoury of the Great Fox, and parked the M12 LRV 'Warthog' in the corner of the hanger bay. Never knew when it might come in handy.

Otherwise bereft of pre departure duties, the ODST hefted his meagre two duffle bags and headed through the dreadnought's crew quarters to an unused room that was to be his own for the duration of the campaign. He punched the control panel key and stepped through the hydraulic door.

It was fairly small, but utilitarian. A bathroom cubicle that doubled as a shower was in one section, and a closet was the next space over. A small bed was situated along the wall, and a plasteel desk was bolted to the hull, with a screen just next to it for comms or recreation.

As the trooper began unpacking his effects, his PDA lit up at an incoming call; he thumbed the answer option and held it up to his face.

"Hey Jack, sorry I didn't get a chance to say goodbye."

The human grinned and sat down on his bunk, watching the calico on the other end of the transmission.

"I figured you were busy sleeping off that hangover of yours. You hear the news?"

"Yeah, so you're assigned to the Star Fox team, are you? That's a pretty big honor."

"They're an interesting bunch, but they're got the look of seasoned pilots."

"Well they are heroes Jack, but then again I guess you are too."

The ODST said nothing, shrugging as he looked off into space.

"Hey."

"Yeah?"

"Take care of yourself out there helljumper."

He smiled at the feline, "Yes ma'am."

"After all, I can't have the alien I spent so much time trying to patch up getting himself undone, now can I?" Her ears twitched as she giggled on the other end.

"I guess not. Are Razor and T Bone looking after you?"

"Yeah, they're ex-pilots so they know their way around a fight."

"Try not to get too wrapped up in your research to eat, Callie."

"Pfff, okay hotshot."

They said their goodbyes and cut the connection, Jack looked up to find Miyu Lynx in his doorway, leaning with a smirk on her maw.

"Getting all shmoozy with the nurse?"

"Doctor, actually. And I'm pretty sure she's got eyes for someone else."

"Sucks to be you groundpounder. Feel like grabbing some chow?"

Jack nodded and got up from his bunk, following the spunky Lynx through the crew quarters to whatever mess hall they must have aboard the dreadnought.

They came to a central sort of lounge, with a countertop separating the compact cooking area from the rest of the room, which featured a steel table bolted to the floor, and some couches and beanbags surrounding a plexiglass shielded holoscreen.

Miyu opened up a cold storage locker and pulled out two packets of plastic wrapped rations.

"Pasta cool?"

"Sure."

She slipped them into a heating unit, and in about 5 seconds they came out steaming. The feline and human sat down at the table, removing the plastic wrap from the disposable trays, and plucking a spork each from the countertop.

"Got your stuff all moved in?" Miyu asked as her fangs flashed during a bite, the chewing motions unusual to the alien trooper.

"Clothes, gun, favorite socks. That sort of thing," Jack responded, taking a bite of the cheese substituted pasta dish, which was surprisingly not as awful as UNSC rations, though still uninspiring spaceship-tier dining.

"Great, lemme know if you need any help lugging around those big ol' boxes soldierboy," The offer was accentuated by the Lynx licking her spork clean of pasta sauce. She apparently took delight in teasing everyone around her.

"Is that like, a cat thing? Flirting shamelessly with everyone?"

"Sorta. It's one of those natural habits we have, I guess you humans don't share that with us. Other species have some little tic's of their own."

She got up, collecting the leftover trays and turning to the kitchen counter, letting her long tail trail across Jack's cheek as she did so.

"Also help's that you've got nice eyes, soldierboy."

"…You cats and your shinies…"

They were still laughing when Krystal walked into the mess hall, wearing a much more casual pullover blouse and leggings.

"Ya chew him out Krys?" Miyu was leaning over from behind the countertop, elbows resting on the plastic top as she smiled at the vixen.

The telepath sighed and plopped into one of the cushy beanbags at the end of the room.

"No I-hello Jack-he didn't mean to upset me, it was just _that yappy little thing…_" The venom in the bluenette's voice was surprising, and both Jack and Miyu's eyebrows went up as they heard it.

The vixen sighed, and seemed to wilt in her fur.

"I'm terribly sorry you all had to see that, it was really unbecoming of me."

Jack made several indiscernible noises as he stared into the highly interesting contents of the coffee cup Miyu handed him. Earning a smack from the feline and a curse when he spilled a little on his pants.

Krystal giggled, "At any rate, everything's going to be fine between us, not to worry." She tilted her head at the ODST, "How are you finding the ship so far?"

Jack looked up from the rescue efforts on his lap, "It's a cozy ship, I've never had my own room on one before either, thanks for that."

"I know, it's a little daunting like that when you first come on board, I was like that my first time too."

"Really Krys? I thought your first time was a little more like _oh! Oh! OHH~_"

The vixen threw a napkin at the giggling Lynx, and Jack bit his lip and said nothing aloud.

"I should go…"

He slipped out of the room as the girls tussled playfully.

The human took his time walking about the ship, from the armoury where all of the weapons were stowed in lockers along the walls, the hanger that echoed every step he took, and to the control room on the bridge of the Great Fox. Inside he found the old hare, Peppy, nursing a cup of lukewarm coffee and reviewing flight plans for the upcoming campaign.

"Burning the midnight oil, are we?"

The long eared elder looked over at Jack leaning on the railing and sighed, feeling every bit his age.

"If I don't get this done none of these cubs are going to. You know I'm supposed to be retired from all this. Out on a beach somewhere, away from joint pains and flight routes and all this drudgery.."

"Admin never sleeps," Jack looked out at the light of the city outside the CDFB Kittyhawk they were still parked at, "I'm running on something like 72 hours now, I was drunk halfway through…"

"Oh, was that when you agreed to come along on this song and dance?"

They shared a good-natured laugh, and returned to looking out at the inky dark beyond the viewport.

"You've been through a lot of war yourself, haven't you?" The hare asked, still staring ahead.

The ODST didn't answer, staring flatly at the black.

"It's awful you know…seeing all those young cubs rush into it laughing, no idea what kind of confusion and misery the real deal is."

"…a lot of them get killed that way."

"True. I served with Fox's father before, James. We survived out there so long on the battlefield, we started to think we were invincible."

"…"

"He never made it back from one mission, we got betrayed by one of our own. Funny how something that should have been obvious, looking back, can completely blindside you."

"Hindsight's 20/20."

"Yep. S'why I get so hard on the kit, when his head gets too big, or he lets something slip. I never want him to end up like his old man did."

"McCloud's a good leader, the team trusts him. He's got that drive, the skill to back it up, and the most important thing of all when it comes to survival."

"Hm?"

The ODST looked over at the hare, the lines under his eyes making him look ages older and much more tired than his 28 years would imply.

"Luck."

Peppy nodded sagely, "Sometimes that's the only thing that saves you."

They didn't speak anymore for the remainder of the night, each alone with their ghosts of battles long past. Another war was coming up, and each and every one of the people on the ship were preparing in their own way. There was a feeling that the tide was starting to rise, and all the hostilities that had been simmering up until this point were close to reaching their peak and crashing down.

Whether or not the Lylat was ready for it remained to be seen.


End file.
